Better in Time
by Suzanne Saphire
Summary: Anya Macpherson recently transferred to McKinley from Toronto to get away from a toxic environment. In hopes to better herself, the girl is thrown into a foreign place and is unsure how she will fit in. Will she be able to start a fresh life amongst the McKinley students? How will this new life treat her?
1. Falling Flat on Her Face

**Hello everybody. I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to read this little story I've put together. This is based on a Tumblr RP group that I'm in and I felt that I wanted to go more in depth with the character storyline. If you are interested, you can find the RP under Degrassi-to-McKinley on Tumblr. I'm lovelyanyamarie there. I'd like to go ahead and give thanks to the players behind sam-bamthankyoumaam, dream-on-imogen, mama-jones, justlikeporcelain, cohen-changshouse and blainewarblerdapperson for helping create this world on our RP. More names will be added later when the story progresses.**

**Anywho. This is the beginning of one of my favorite crackship OTP's that our group refers to as either Samya or Trounya. Please feel free to leave some feedback and I hope to add more to this soon. **

Life in Toronto became close to unbearable for one Anya Marie MacPherson. All it took was one night at a club with her boyfriend, Owen Milligan, and a curiosity for a specific white powder from a curly blonde haired stranger to get Anya into quite a mess. It started out as something small. Something she felt she could manage. She snorted and felt such an intense high that all she could focus on was moving to the music and dancing to the night away. The crash though. That was the worst. All it made her want was to get some more to keep from feeling that lousy again.

A few days later, she managed to run into Chloe, who was no longer a stranger, and scored her very own small packet. Their little run ins went from once or twice a week to nearly daily. Then it got to the point where Anya "slept" over at the girl's house even though there was very little sleeping going on They'd just stay up and have heated conversations about nothing in particular and completed school work. The coke, in a sense, helped improve her grades because it gave Anya such focus that not even caffeine was able to achieve. She spent more time with Chloe than Owen, Holly J, Riley or her parents. They would call or text but she'd just brush it off and tell herself that she couldn't be bothered.

Her and Owen's relationship strained during the following month and Anya didn't care. He had tried to get her away from Chloe a few times by scheduling dates, which she made an effort to keep. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his company. She typically had a great time whenever they were together. It was that he didn't approve of how she would sneak off and bump a line in the bathroom without his consent. Most of the time he'd just leave her out of anger and she'd shrug it off.

All she wanted was to get coked up and go dancing or spend time in upbeat environments. If she felt that things were heading towards a serious tone, she'd just stand up and move away from it. That being either mentally and in some cases physically. Into her second month of abusing the nose candy, she had started to drop weight and didn't look healthy. Her skin looked pale, which was surprising to do since her complexion was pretty fair to begin with. Her clothes appeared slightly baggy and if she had to assume how much weight she lost, it might have been close to 10lbs. She just wasn't hungry anymore and sleep seemed almost like a chore, something that she didn't want to bother with because she could be doing things instead. She also just felt extremely restless and spent a majority of her nights pacing around the room concerned with how she was to continue paying for her new habit since she was plowing through the 2 years worth of babysitting money she had accumulated from looking after the neighbors'' kids.

Anya didn't go home very often because her parents would question about her whereabouts. They sensed that something was wrong and there was a small part inside of her that felt horrible for the way she had been treating them. They were concerned, and that was understandable. The girl just couldn't control her emotions and actions anymore. It seemed that the people that she once held dear in her heart felt like nuisances and she distanced herself with each passing day. There were days that she had to deal with her parents when she needed to get clean clothes to take over to Chloe's place. Her mom would stand in the doorway of her room and ask her what was wrong. Her eyes wet and tired from worry while her daughter packed her Sprit Squad duffle bag. She'd just give her mom a look, that seemed vacant and dead and lie through her teeth that everything was fine. That she just had been stressed out with school and needed a break from things. She also came up with a lie about how Chloe was going through a rough time at home and she really needed Anya there for her.

Then one night while she and Chloe were coming out of the bathroom, both in a post coke glow that the two of them were approached by two sleazy men. The were grabby and rubbing themselves all over the both of them. Anya was completely disgusted by this and her brain was buzzing hardcore from what they had just done. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with these gross men. Chloe on the other hand was in the middle of making out with one, while the other on tried to kiss up on Anya's neck. This was not what she wanted and she shoved the guy away. One would think that he'd have given up and declared defeat, but the man grabbed her by the waist and pull the girl towards him. Laughing. He was actually laughing. Then Anya heard her friend's laugh join in on his.

"Relax, Anya. Have some fun." Chloe said as the stranger placed his hand up her shirt. "It's not going to kill you to just cut loose for one night."

That seemed to be something that Chloe told her a lot, especially when she felt that she might need to cut back on the amount she had been snorting. The man who held her by the waist put his lips on her neck again and she cringed. No. She had enough of this night. Of this scene. Anya grabbed his hands and pulled them off her body forcibly. When he tried to come towards again she pushed him, hard.

"Chloe. We need to leave." Anya hugged her body, her purse clasped tightly in her hand. It seemed her friend has lured the other guy over and was having the time of her life. Anya rolled her eyes and forced her way through to two groping men. She pulled Chloe through and placed both her hands on either side of her shoulders. "What are you doing?" She looked past Chloe and sneered at the men. "It's time to get out of here." The look on Chloe's face showed total disagreement.

"Just because you have a boyfriend doesn't mean you have to ruin my night for me. Why don't you go run off to him and let me have these two for myself?"

"What? That doesn't even make sense!" Chloe was already gone and walking out with the two strangers towards the exit.

"Chloe!" The music drowned out her voice and she helpless watched her friend leave her.

Anya went home that night and quietly let herself in without waking her parents. She tossed and turned all night, not certain if her friend was alright or hurt in an alley somewhere. Anya had sent her at least twenty texts, asking her to call her. It must have been close to 5am when she finally received confirmation that all was well.

"Im fine. Ttyl - C"

While Anya allowed her mind to relax from the craziness of the night she decided that it was time to better herself. That this was not the life she needed to be living. Would she be able to cut loose? Her nose ached and she rubbed it, pinching at the bridge and she let out a frantic sigh. It felt like she might be getting a nose bleed and she slowed her breathing. She reached over and grabbed a tissue and moment later red painted across the white, thin material of the tissue. This was not a healthy lifestyle for her and she knew that if she allowed it to go much further she'd be unable to stop it.

The next few days were sheer hell and she tried her best not to speak to Chloe. Anya struggled to regain a better relationship with Owen, but it seemed that he couldn't view her as other than a cokehead. It was a miracle he didn't just end things with her and she honestly didn't know what kept him around her. Especially when it seemed that her moods were all over the place with the horrid withdrawals. She just felt sick and weak and all out pathetic. Her communication was limited due to the fact she spent most of her time wrapped up in a thick sweatshirt and sitting alone by her locker during the lunch break. Her locker was near the bathroom, a place that she had seen quite a lot of over the last 48 hours.

It was during one of Anya's trips to the bathroom to hug the porcelain God when she saw a flyer next to the hand dryer announcing a new exchange program for interested students. If you were accepted you would be transferred out to a school in the United States for a semester. It seemed that somebody was looking out for Anya and she ripped the paper from the wall, already power walking straight to the front office. Apparently she was the first person to apply and after a meeting with Principal Simpson he told Anya that she more than qualified. All he needed to do was discuss this with her parents and all the necessary paperwork signed that she would be transferred to a school in Lima, Ohio in the middle of December.

It appeared that everything had finally fallen into place for her finally. She continued to ignore Chloe's attempts at communication but her desire to see was ever present. It felt like she had lost part of her identity and she felt an ache each time she pressed Ignore on an incoming call. She'd stand there chewing her nails while staring down at one of the frustrated texts from her party time friend asking what the fuck was wrong with her and why she wouldn't just talk to her. Her thumb wavered over the keyboard ready to type out a reply and a voice inside her head said that maybe she could see her again. That they can hang out without laying out a line. And she was very close on scheduling a meet up a few times but miraculously didn't. Not without intense mental argument though.

She thought that keeping Chloe at bay was hard, but it didn't compare to what she endured on the afternoon she broke the news of the transfer program to Owen.

"When did you sign up for that?" He asked her, confused at this sudden announcement. "It seemed like we were finally getting back to how we were before you got into the blow." The hurt in Owen's eyes made her look down in disgust. She didn't even think about how he would take the news.

"I'm. I'm sorry Owen. This is just something that I need to do. Toronto isn't a good place for me right now." Her voice was small, to match how she felt inside.

"Do you hear yourself, MacPherson? You're just running away from the problem instead of facing it head on. Don't do this." He wrapped his arm around her and gave her his girlfriend a sideways hug. "You can beat this with my help." His fingers pressed into her arm as he held her close to him.

This was something that she wasn't 100% certain about. She didn't feel that she was strong enough to ignore Chloe forever, especially since the girl knew where she lived. She had her first hard craving for the drug not even an hour earlier during a math class. No. She needed to get away. And the idea of hurting Owen killed her, but she hoped he'd realize that this was to better herself.

"I wish I can stay. I do." Hot tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked, they rolled down leaving tracks on her cheeks. "I'm just not strong enough and I don't want you to feel like you have to baby sit me. That's not right of me to do to you. Please understand this decision is to better me." She broke away from his hug and held his hand, squeezing it hard. "I need you to understand why I'm doing this, Owen."

"Tough. Because I don't. These past months all you've done is think of nobody but yourself. Then, here you come, randomly announcing that you are moving out to some random fucking town in the United States. Anya. I can't stand behind this decision. You need to owe up to what you've done and learn some self control." He was pissed and Anya's mouth dropped open at this outburst.

In a sense he was right, but she lacked the self control that he stated she needed and just felt stuck. Maybe she could back out of the program and just tough it out here. Get better with the help he offered. Anya looked into his eyes, they were filled with disappointment and hurt. She felt like the biggest bitch in the world. Probably was. It seemed that her decision to try coke in the first place had turned her entire world upside down and it effected everybody in her life.

She ended up sitting down on a bench in the little JT Yorke Memorial garden they were in and placed her head down onto her hands. The perplexed girl had a massive headache and just didn't know what to do anymore. When she made the choice to sign up for this program, her primary concern was her health. Her well being. Now she was dealing with a very angry and neglected boyfriend. There was no way she would be able to salvage this and she knew it.

"Owen. I'm already part of the program. All the paperwork has been processed. I leave in a couple of weeks. Can we at least spend the last of my time here together before I go?" She quietly pleaded with him, her face looked up from her hands at him. "Please?"

He shook his head at her and stormed off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He avoided her at school from that moment on.

Two weeks later, Anya found herself at the airport saying goodbye to her friends and family. She hoped to see Owen there but he never showed. He didn't even call or text her to wish her a safe flight or even to acknowledge whether or not they were still together or not. She made her way onto the plane with a heavy heart and was relieved to see the flight wasn't packed. There wasn't anybody in her row and she moved over to the seat next to the window. As she sat on the airplane, terrified of the unknown that laid out before her, she felt silent tears stream down her face. Anya placed her hot forehead against the cool glass of the thick plated window and wondered if she had made the right decision.


	2. Say Hello to the Jones Family

Upon arrival at the airport, Anya stepped off the plane while listening to her iPod. She walked out, shouldering her carry on bag , and nerves settled in. She was to meet the family that agreed to take her into their home for the semester. With the exception of Chloe's home she had never stayed more than a few days at somebody else's house. Well, not since she was in middle school when she and Holly J would have spontaneous sleepovers. That felt like such a lifetime ago and she wished for the time when all her concerns were about what boys she thought were cute and painting her nails crazy colors.

Anya made her way through the terminal and followed the signs that directed her to the baggage claim area. She held her bag close to her body as if it were a protective shield while she waited for the carousel to bring her suitcase around. This felt so strange to the girl who had never traveled out of Canada before yet here she was making a pretty big life change. Her dark pink suitcase with the unicorn sticker on one of the metal clasps came around the bend and she stepped up to retrieve it. The bag was quite heavy and she had to use all her strength to drag it off. There was a struggle though and she had to drop her carryon and practically was pulled along the slow moving carousel with her hand still tightly grasping the suitcase's handle.

A rather helpful man stepped up and made sure she had steadied the bag before running down to catch his own luggage. And people say chivalry is dead. "Thank you!" Anya called down to him because she didn't' want to come across as rude or unappreciative. Remembering where she was, her hands went up to her straight, dark brown hair and fidgeted with the red hair clip she stuck in there today. Adjusting it and sweeping any loose hair back killed some time before she felt that she was no longer getting amused looks by the people who she shared a flight with. She lifted the handle of her suitcase and tested the wheels by moving it back and forth a couple of times. When all seemed well she held onto it and pulled it behind her, bending down to where she dropped her carry on and quickly shouldering it to get her move on.

There were people standing outside the glass electric doors as she crossed over the threshold. Her blue eyes nervously scanned the people in search of her name. When she felt that maybe the family wasn't there to greet her, she tried to remember if she had a phone number to contact. An image of a piece of paper left on the breakfast table this morning cross her mind and she felt a jab of panic punch her in the gut when she clued in that it was still back in Toronto. Way to go. You can never keep yourself from messing up things, can you?

During her little mental self lecture, Anya spied a couple towards the back of the small crowd. They held up a large white poster board with her name written in thick black marker. Anya's legs led her to the African American couple and she stood in front of them with a large smile plastered on her face. "I think you are looking for me?" She shook her bangs out of her eyes and extended a shaky hand. "I'm Anya. Anya Macpherson."

"Hello Anya, honey. Welcome to Lima." A handsomely dressed middle aged woman said with a welcoming smile. She lightly brushed away Anya's hand and pulled her into a hug. This was unexpected and she decided to roll with it. When she signed up for the transfer program, they had to submit all the information in her school record. With the nature of this hug, she wondered if anything might have been mentioned about her mom's recent struggle with cancer. What if this family thought she did the transfer program to clear her mind from the stresses of that? The cancer went into remission nearly a year ago, though.

The man, who wore a dark brown overcoat that was tightly buttoned down gave her a nod, himself with a sideways smile. "I'm Marcus Jones and this woman who is currently squeezing you to death is my wife Sheila. We are the Jones and you'll be our host daughter during your stay here." His hand went down by Anya's, that still had the handle of her suitcase in her hand. It dawned on her that she he wanted to take it and she shook her head to protest. He cocked his head to the side, the glasses that he wore reflected her defiant stance, and raised an eyebrow. "Sheila. You are smothering her already. Can you see that she is probably exhausted from her flight."

With that Anya was released and she couldn't help but chuckle, her cheeks blushing an intense red from the extensive hug. She had never been hugged like that in her life. Especially from a near stranger. Traces of it lingered and she rubbed her biceps trying to smooth out the mental imprints that were pressed into her black overcoat. Marcus offered to pull her suitcase again by indicating with his hand that he could take it for her. "No, no. I've got it. Thank you though." To demonstrate that she was more than capable of handling it, she pulled it with ease and grinned. "See. It just glides like a skate on fresh ice."

Husband and wife clasped gloved hands and led Anya in the direction of the parking garage. The sounds of tires screeching and engines turning over echoed as her luggage made near inaudible wheeling noises on the bumpy concrete. "Tell us something about yourself, Anya. Might I add before you answer that you have such a beautiful name. It's quite unique." Sheila Jones said with a casual look over her shoulder. "Is it a name that has been passed down in your family?"

"There really isn't much to say about me. I like do dance. I was in the Spirit Squad back at home." She started and upon realization that they wouldn't know what in the world a 'Sprit Squad' was, she added. "It's a cheerleading team at my school. I am pretty quiet. You'll probably forget that I'm even in your house." The couple ahead of her both laughed at that. She watched as their shoulders shook with their laughter. Was what she said really that funny or were they humoring her? It was hard to tell and she didn't want to question on this.

They arrived at a black SUV, a press of the button in Marcus' hand automatically opened the hatchback when they were a few feet away. This was the first time Anya had seen something like this in action and was immediately impressed. The car itself was a newer model and appeared to be lovingly maintained. Not a fleck of dirt was on it. Her dad's car came to mind and how she felt her first pang of homesickness. She hadn't been gone for more than a day and she already missed her family.

The two weeks leading up to her departure strengthened her relationship with her parents and they spent a lot of time together. They never really questioned why she randomly decided to join the program other than she was feeling adventurous. But, those two weeks weren't smooth sailing. She still had her dark nights where she'd think about contacting Chloe, just to check in. She actually did call her once. It was a two am call during one of her sleepless nights and the line rang until it reached voicemail. Instead of leaving a message she hung up and turned her phone off. She spent that night feeling low and pathetic. It solidified that she had made a wise choice in taking part in that program.

Everybody piled into the car and before she knew it they were already on the freeway. She realized that she never answered the question about her name and felt like such a ditz. Instead of brining it up so late after the question was asked, Anya looked around at the scenery outside the car window and noticed how spread out everything was out here. There weren't many tall buildings either and in the distance she could make out what appeared to be downtown, or she assumed. Actually she was pretty surprised this place had an airport by the size of the tow, they'd be lucky to have a decent mall. Idle chit chat was made in the car, mainly asking about her parents and what type of classes she had taken at school.

"Why did you decide to do the exchange program, Anya dear?" Sheila Jones asked. She was in the passenger seat ,looking straight ahead, so she didn't see Anya's face scrunch up as she tried to think of a plausible reply. Why hadn't she thought this one through? She knew that people would ask this question eventually.

"Oh. Well." She started, sitting straight up and feeling a light coat of sweat on her forehead. "I wanted to come and visit the United States and this seemed like the best opportunity to do it." Her reply came out sounding shy, her voice low and uncertain. Anya just sat there with slumped shoulders and waited to see if anymore questions would come her way.

"We are happy that you decided to do so. I think you will enjoy your time here. We have a daughter that is about your age and have a feeling that the two of you will be best of friends." Anya put her hand up to her forehead and could actually feel the cold sweat there. She ran the back of her hand over it and removed the moisture but rubbing the leg of her jeans. "Mercedes, our daughter, is quiet at first. If you talk to her enough you'll soon find out that it's impossible to get a word in edgewise." Sheila mentioned with a laugh.

This would be new to Anya to actually live with another girl in the house. She being the only child in her family had grown accustomed to getting most of the attention from her parents. Also, she didn't have to share a bathroom or bedroom with anybody. It wasn't like she was to have issues with it. Even with the positives of only child syndrome, there was part of her that wanted to know what it felt to have a sister type figure in her life. Her friendship with Holly J was probably the closest thing she had to that, but they didn't live together.

The car pulled up to a cozy two story red brick home in the middle of a well maintained neighborhood. It was dusk and there were children playing a game of tag in front of the home. It seemed that they lived a very family friendly neighborhood which Anya liked. She rather enjoyed the sound of kids playing in the street, which was something that rarely happened back at home. It started to snow moments after the car turned out. "Well look at that. Your first day here and we are greeted with snow. That's a good sign." Sheila remarked, her head ducked low enough to watch the icy flakes land onto the glass. "I'll make some hot chocolate for dessert after dinner. Does that sound good?" She turned in her seat, a white gloved hand on the headrest as she sweetly looked at the girl in the backseat. Anya nodded her head, the smile on her face warm and she actually felt like she was getting another hug from Mrs. Jones, but more with words if that made any sense. They each open their respected doors and exited the cooling car.

She waited for the hatchback of the SUV to pop open to retrieve her bag. Right when she was ready to pull it out, memory of the carousel battle completely forgotten, Marcus was already there lifting it out for her. "You really shouldn't strain yourself with such heavy things." His tone fatherly and she felt that she had already become part of the family without even stepping through the front door yet. "You must weigh close to nothing. And this bag has to be at least 80lbs. You'd give yourself a hernia." Marcus continued to lecture her while she stood there awkwardly crossing her arms.

"Come with me sweetheart. I'll show you into the house." Sheila's nurturing tone overpowered Marcus' and Anya allowed herself to be led into the home.

Upon first impressions, the inside of the house was spotless. Much like how the car out in the drive way had been. There was a rather pleasant aroma too and Anya guessed that either a candle was lit somewhere inside or a freshly baked apple pie was in the kitchen. The windows throughout the open living room showed a darkening sky and the snowfall had really picked up. The sense of Christmas felt ever present now and Anya stood there wondering what possessed her to come out here a week before the holiday. There was a Christmas tree by a large picture window in the living room, displayed for the whole neighborhood to see. The woman walked over to it and flipped a switch, washing the room in brilliant colors that danced off the glass ornaments. Without turning she called out, "Mercedes. Come and say hello to Anya." her hands busily adjusting a few loose strands of garland on the tree.

Anya stood in the foyer, still with her arms crossing her chest in a somewhat defensive way. She unknowingly had been gnawing on the inside of her cheek for a good part of five minutes and felt a soreness there. Her inquisitive sapphire blue eyes moved across the room, appreciating the décor. The house was extremely comfortable. Neat, but not like a museum, so if she wanted to just plop on the sofa for a nap, she could. While she was taking in her new home, and how she was to adjust to being here for the holidays, she heard the stairs creak and a full figured girl made her way down. She was wearing a thick purple sweater over a pair of black jeans. Her hair, black and shiny, came down to her shoulders and she had a rather forlorn expression across her face. Anya couldn't tell if the girl was happy to have her here or not. The way she stood on the last step of the stairs, not moving much closer gave her the impression that maybe she was an unwelcome addition to their home.

"Come on Mercedes. She might not be from this country, but she won't bite you. Won't you dear?"

The reactionary look on Anya's face had Sheila in stitches and even Marcus, who wasn't part of the conversation joined in as he walked in with Anya's suitcase and carry on. Confused as always Anya looked over at Mercedes who just gave her a shrug before going upstairs.

"Don't mind her. She's just moody. How about we show you were you'll be staying? Marcus, why not take the poor girl's bag upstairs." She didn't really ask, more told him to do this task. They followed him as he slowly carried the bag up step but step. Anya felt guilty for watching this because that was her heavy crap inside the suitcase and when she tried to lift it from behind she was told to not concern herself with it. This was going to be quite the adjustment for her and she went back to biting the inside of her cheek instead of speaking up.

With a thud, Marcus placed the bag in the middle of a rather large bedroom. Anya didn't expect she'd get a room to herself and was actually impressed with it. It happened to be much larger than the one she had slept in for the past 15 years. There were two windows that would bring in plenty of natural sunlight, which she loved. A small tv on a large dresser, a white desk with a matching chair and a queen sized bed. Anya went to the closet and actually walked inside of it. She had always wanted a walk in closet and she clapped her hands together with approval as if she were a little girl who received a pony for her birthday. "This is too much." she spoke while still standing in the middle of the empty closet. "You really didn't have to do all of this for me. I'd been happy sleeping in a small room, or share one with your daughter."

"No trouble at all. We want you to feel like you are a part of the family." Marcus said as he removed his coat, clearly warmed up from carrying her bag. "In our family we understand that a girl needs her own space."

"Why don't you go ahead and unpack, get comfortable and in a couple of hours we will have dinner. If you are hungry now, there are snacks in the refrigerator." Sheila informed her as she and Marcus walked out the bedroom door. "Don't feel like you are a guest in this house, Anya. For the next six months consider yourself an extension of our family."

"Thank you again for everything. I really don't know how to express how much this means to me." She made her way back out into the bedroom and stood next to her upright suitcase. "I will help out as much as I can with chores and whatever else you need. I promise." She felt her nerves acting up and it was tough to try to present herself as self assured when she felt her own self worth was so low. Why would a family kindly take her in and treat her like she was one of their own kids? And what was up with their daughter. She looked miserable. Maybe the whole kindness that the parents were showing her was an act and Mercedes was the actual truth of what to expect from living here. That was a disturbing thought and Anya brought her pinky finger up to her mouth and chewed on her nail.

"Just get settled in and we'll discuss some ground rules and chores list with you during dinner. You'll have fun with our family. We promise you." They left Anya on her own and she had gone from having a warm welcoming feeling to suddenly sensing that something was wrong. Was it with the parents or maybe something going on with their daughter. Her own imagination kicked in quickly and before she knew it, it was piecing together outrageous scenarios. Trying her best to drown out the images, she got to work with unpacking her possessions, which took a good part of an hour. She must have been thinking that the Jones' had a torture room in their basement when Mercedes knocked on the door frame, because she jumped at the sudden sound.

"Hey. Need any help?" The girl that stood in the doorway appeared withdrawn and sad. Her hair was down, but not really combed. It appeared that maybe she had been laying in bed before making her way to Anya's room. Mercedes tugged on the edges of her wooly purple sweater. She slightly pulled the material this way and that, waiting for a response from Anya.

The suitcase laid open in the middle of the floor. Anya was leaned forward, her hands removing clothes into organized stacks and she wondered if Mercedes could help her with anything. It seemed that all was in order but she didn't want to come across as rude. "Um. Hmm." She dug through her luggage and found some figurines that she lovingly wrapped up in bubble wrap to keep from breaking. "Maybe you can put these on the dresser there? I'd really appreciate that." A sincere smile played across her facial features and the girl who really didn't look like she was all here took the three items from Anya's open hands. "Thanks, Mercedes." The sound of the tape peeling back from the bubble wrap could be heard and Anya watched as she performed this task of niceness. "I guess you and I will be seeing a lot of each other at school, eh? That should be pretty fun. I apologize in advance if you get sick of me after the 2nd day of me at school." The attempt she made at being funny fell on deaf ears and Anya felt like an idiot. Why did it seem that this girl in her room was in her own little world. It was as if Anya wasn't here and her only focus was the glass fairie her dark brown hands was holding. The glittery purple nail polish on the pointer finger that traced the smooth outline on the fairies' wing was chipped and Anya wished that her new housemate would at least say something.

Attempting to make small talked turned out to be a bigger task than she anticipated she and she went back to her unpacking. Whatever was on Mercedes' mind was not her business. She hadn't even been here for more than a couple of hours and she already found herself worried. Hey, at least she wasn't thinking about getting coked up. So, the worrying over Mercedes should count for something good at least. The last of the items was removed from the suitcase and Anya stood up. Her long legs wobbled as she swayed to and fro. Pins and needles attacked her legs and the idea of walking forward seemed like absolute torture. She stood there, wiggling her toes slowly, awaiting the feeling to return. The only other thing she hated more than when her legs fell asleep was when she hits her funny bone. Why was it even called that? It's not like you laugh when you hit it and it's so not funny either.

Mercedes turned around with a ball of the clear bubble wrap in her hands. She started to subconsciously pop it while staring at Anya with a rather curious expression on her face. That was good. The distant one really bummed out the brunette and she much rather preferred confusion over sadness any day. "These are quite beautiful. Where did you get them?" She cocked a thumb at the 3 fairies that now stood huddled together on the mahogany dresser. This set of the three appeared to be dancing. It was one of her prized possessions and she was rather attacked to it.

"My grandmother bought those for me when I was a little girl. You can say I went through a fairy tale stage and couldn't get enough of anything magical. Actually, I have a confession for you." she said picking up a stack of pajamas. "I never quite grew out of that stage." The girl went to the dresser that Mercedes was currently in front of and opened a drawer, dropping the items in there. Her small hands with delicate fingers picked up the fairie that she nicknamed Rose many years ago and looked down at it. She closed the drawer with her hip and continued to hold the glass figurine. "There use to be stories behind each of this that my grandmother came up with, but I can't remember how it went exactly. Something about them getting together and holding a dance to call out all the woodland animals. It was something silly and more of a story that a six year old would appreciate." she self consciously said once she noticed she had been rambling. She placed Rose next to Ivy and lower her hand by her side.

They stood in the room, sort of looking at each other and it was clear the girl in front of her was uncomfortable. Anya was about to say something to break the silence, which she couldn't handle when Mercedes excused herself rather abruptly. She walked out of the room and the sound of her door closing next door really confused the girl who was currently standing in the middle of her new room in a strange house located in a town she had never heard up until a week ago.

"Anya, Anya, Anya. What have you got yourself into?" she said out loud, getting down onto the white carpeted floor and resuming the task of putting all her things away before dinnertime. "Maybe you should have listened to Owen and stayed. It's too late for that now." She lost herself to thought again, this time about how Owen was doing without her. It wasn't like he was readily available during her last two weeks back at home, so she figured he more than likely had moved on and it actually hurt her heart to think about. She still cared for him, even with her heartless and selfish decision to move out here in play, and him not calling or anything bothered the hell out of her. This was just the way he was and it was to take some time for her to adjust to him not being somebody she can talk to at random.

Loneliness settled in and it felt like the room she was in, which had been bright, warm and happy now felt cold and sad. She paused the work she was doing and crawled onto the bed and leaned up against the khaki painted wall next to the window. She placed the back of her head against it and looked up at the ceiling. She felt scared and alone and wondered if she was to make it the full six months here. If she kept allowing her thoughts to work her into a frenzy, she might not even last a week. Anya closed her eyes and waited to be called down for dinner, not caring that half of her stuff was still all over the floor of the bedroom.


	3. The Reunion

The week leading up to Christmas had the house abuzz with activity. Anya, who was still in transition, felt practically tossed into the Jones' preparations for the holiday. All she did was hold them back from completing tasks and would try to find some way to distance away from the chaos. Mrs. Jones wouldn't have it though, insisting that she was now a part of this family and she will be involved in what they do. In a blink of an eye, Anya found herself in the middle of the kitchen, elbow deep in an uncooked turkey.

There was a reason for the commotion and it all had to do with Grams. You would think that the President of the United States was planning to visit with the way the house's energy sparkled with electricity. Silver was polished, carpets vacuumed, even the refrigerator was cleared of all bad food and scrubbed. Anya hadn't done this much cleaning all her life and her thin arms were aching something fierce. Slowly, and with great care, her hand removed itself from the cold bird, taking the unpleasant gizzards with her. This was so nasty and just touching the firm kidneys made Anya gag. She had never in her life done this and Sheila scolded her to no end for not knowing how to clean and prepare a turkey.

"You might as well learn right now while under pressure. How else do you expect to feed a family if you don't know how to cook?" Sheila's temper had been short for at least a day and Anya knew better than to argue. She had already seen her go off on Anthony, Mercedes' older brother, and the guy actually looked like he had been slapped by her words. The clueless girl, who was washing the grossness off her arm in the kitchen sink, didn't think she'd get the same treatment but it wasn't like she wanted to test those waters either. "Don't forget to prepare the brine. That bird needs to soak for a least a full day before it's cooked." A voice echoed from the dining room. Sheila was preoccupied with removing the china from the hutch but she wasn't too busy to oversee what Anya was currently doing. She felt like a child in a scary adult world as she followed the brine recipe. Triple, no quadruple checking that she followed it to a T.

Once the bird, that she increasingly grew to hate with every fiber of her being, was properly stowed away in the extra refrigerator in the basement, Anya managed to sneak away. There were a few panic stricken minutes when she could feel her delicate fingers lose grip from the heavy pot she carried down the creaky steps. Thank God she didn't drop it because that would have been a sure fire way to get her ass reamed out by the woman upstairs. She tiptoed out of the basement like a cat burglar who was a afraid of tripping an unseen signal. A break was needed from this hecticness and refuge was sought in the 2nd family room towards the back of the house. Anthony and Mercedes were both in there and they gave Anya apologetic smiles. "I guess you are officially one of us now." Anthony said as he stood up from the couch to let her collapse down. Her urge to protest bubbled up but she was too damn tired to even bother with the brother. Anthony, who obviously had been raised with manners, took a seat on the floor and resumed watching Die Hard. The perfect movie for the holidays.

"So. What is the deal with your grandmother? Is she royalty? A hard woman to please?" Inquired a rather curious Anya. Her relationship with Mercedes hadn't strengthened since their initial meeting, but they spoke from time to time when the girl wasn't in her own headspace. "Your mom isn't always like this, right? Or am I to expect more 6am wake up calls to clean ever single window in this house?" Aches and pains shot out from her biceps and even thinking of the chore made her wince.

"Sorry about that, boo. She means well but she can be hard to handle when she gets in these moods." Mercedes remarked, rubbing the arms of her sweater nervously as if she were trying to remove sweat from her hand. Actually, this happened to have been a little bit of a habit the girl had. Anya chalked it up to either a nervous tick or OCD. Lord knows if she had a few weird habits that she wasn't aware of and people would gladly list out if she were to ask. And she _wasn't_ going to ask . That's like inviting somebody to actually observe you and everything that you do. As if you were in a habitat at a human zoo; similar to what they did in Twilight Zone or Slaughterhouse Five. She felt her mind start to sleepily drift towards thinking how it would be like as the main exhibit in a zoo and if it actually would be all that bad when there was sudden movement around her. Mercedes, who had been in a dazed state before, hurriedly moved off the dark brown leather sofa and retrieved a basket full of laundry that was next to her leg. She anxiously pulled a stack of already folded shirts between her and Anya and continued performing the task. Anthony wasn't even in the room anymore and slow Anya picked up that Shiela's footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

"Crap." she sputtered under her breathe and looked around for busy work. There was absolutely nothing in this room to be cleaned or organized. Jumping to her feet, Anya stood in a daze in the middle of the room, doing a quick spin around in search for a place to hide. Why was it that she happened to revert to a five year old whenever she felt panic? She could just face the woman head on instead of running away like a scared chicken. A creak down the hall hit her ears and Anya decided to take the chicken route. That seemed easier. There was the closet where all the board games and bed sheets for the guest room bed were kept, so quickly ducked inside. The white, 4 6 paneled door with the gold doorknob clicked shut when she heard Sheila's voice in the room speaking to Mercedes. Her earlier thoughts returned as she stood in the dark. Why was she hiding? It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. Now she was, and if she were to get cau-. The door opened her, Anya shielding her eyes from the bright light that spilled in from the large window in the room.

"Oh. Hi!" Anya exclaimed out of shock. "I was just putting some," desperation filled her body as her eyes bounced about the closet while the woman in the doorway cocked her head to the side, one hand on her hip while the other grasped the doorknob. "these bed sheets.!" a surprised tone occupied her voice, nearly questioning her own answer. For one scary moment she felt certain that within her first week here she was to get a taste of Sheila Jones' temper. Instead of a chew out, Sheila delivered rather curious look and turned, leaving the closet door open. Even from here Anya could hear Mercedes snickering "It's not funny." she mumbled as she closed the door, kicking out the light and a laughing Mercedes from the other room.

Eventually she emerged from her temporary hiding spot and begrudgingly herself available to whatever painful chores needed to be completed for the remainder of the day. Apparently with Anya's extra hands they actually finished a majority of everything earlier than expected. Mrs. Jones shed her psycho controlling nature and was zenned out on the couch in the living room. Darkness encased the room except for a lone floor lamp in the corner behind a potted plant. A bottle of red wine stood in the center of the mahogany coffee table and Mrs. Jones was slowly moving the half empty glass around in her hand, lazily swishing the wine around.

Mr. Jones happened to walk in through the front door when Anya ambled her way up the stairs. He beamed a smile at her and she returned one back to him. She rather liked him in a replacement daddy sort of way and he actually made her feel the most welcomed in this house. The man, with the graying hair on his temples, removed his thick, black, overcoat, chuckling as he looked down at the white coat he had on underneath it. It appeared he forgotten to take it off back at the dentist office he owned. They shared a laugh over his forgetfulness, him pressing his large pointer finger to his lips to indicate that this never happened. Marcus shrugged out of the white coat and laid it out on the entrance table before locating his wife in the living room. Anya spun on her heels and jogged up the remaining steps of the stairs to get back to her room to crash.

The next day, December 24th, Grams arrived bright and early. It was rare for Anya to be out of bed before 9am, but the elderly woman decided to grace their presence by allowing herself into the home at 7:30 in the fudging morning. It wasn't like she was quiet about it either. She slammed the front door shut and announced her arrival in a sing song voice. Anya, with great annoyance, pulled her soft pillow on top of her head and angrily groaned. The night before, even though she was physically beat, was one of her sleepless nights as she felt pangs from missing her mom and dad. This was the first time that they were to spend the holidays apart and she wondered what in the Hell possessed her to leave so quickly in the first place. She could have waited until the 30th to fly out to Lima. But no. She wasn't thinking clearly at the time and opted for the earliest day possible. Each time she thought of home and her dearly missed friends and family, she could sense herself mentally hate Chloe more and more. Anya knew that her trying coke was her own damn fault, but she needed a punching bag and Chloe fit the bill.

Anya figured that since Grams had never met her before, _and_ she was technically a guest in the house, there was a chance she would be able to go unscathed by the early morning wake up call. Marcus could be heard in the hallway, his deep voice gruff from sleep as he greeted Grams just outside the bedroom door. Her puffy eyes stayed shut as she pushed herself as far to the edge of the bed as she could go. Maybe if she didn't look like she was there then nobody would bother her. When she heard the voices head down the stairs she knew that she was in the home stretch. Anya removed the pillow from her head and rolled her body onto her back, sprawling out. As she felt her tired mind accept the first waves of dreams, a baby started to cry downstairs. _What? A baby? Why does a grandmother have a baby with her? It's possible that another one of the Jones' relatives came along for the holidays... _Anya thought to herself as the incessant wails traveled up from downstairs. She felt close to tears herself and just wanted to get back to sleep.

The sound of Mercedes' door opening indicated that even her fellow housemate had heard the baby's cries. Anya listened to her footsteps gingerly descend the stairs. It seemed that the whole house will be awake in no time and Anya had to forfeit any chance of capturing anymore Z's for the rest of the morning. There was hushed talking and she strained to listen in. She climbed out of bed and tip toed to the door as quietly as she could do and thanked God for being a dancer because it allowed her to do this task effortlessly. A careful hand wrapped around the cool doorknob and she turned it clockwise ever, ever, EVER so carefully.

A warm gust of air from the heater blew in her face and she had to close her eyes to keep them from watering. It sounded like some incomprehensible firm words were exchanged between Grams and Mercedes. They were intentionally speaking low and her curiosity was attacking her like a bee with a flower. Anya's hand pulled the door open wider and moved a socked foot across the floor, this time barely lifting her feet off the ground. This reminded her of when she was younger and how she would sneak downstairs around midnight to see if Santa had paid a visit to her house. A brief hurt went through her heart when she remembered that it was Christmas Eve. Her parents would be just be adding the lights to their tree right now. Their family always did things at the last minute, but it always proved to be such fun, especially when they played music and sang along like giddy idiots.

Upon careful placement on the top step and praying that it wouldn't creak, Anya could pinpoint the location of the conversation. They were in the kitchen and it seemed the Grandmother, that Anya hadn't met yet, was in charge of the conversation. The mystery baby had ceased it's crying and made a few gurgle sounds. "- why I can't keep her anymore. I don't have the energy needed to raise another child. You and Sheila have to discuss how to handle taking her. I fear one of these days I will drop her and then what?" The voice that spoke was firm and filled with concerned understanding. "She is a wonderful baby." The sound of lips smacking skin and a giggle from the baby was heard by Anya. "Your Grams isn't as strong as she used to be."

Anya's soft cheek was pressed against the wall, intently listening in and piecing together what was being discussed. Her right hand, which was eye level, fingers randomly tracing the wall as she tried to focus on the confusing chatter. She was so engulfed in the conversation that her head practically hit the ceiling when a hand landed on her shoulder. Her body spun around and was ready to high tail it back to her room when she saw it was only Anthony. "Why did you do that?" she angrily hissed at him. "I think I nearly choked on my heart." A shaking hand was over her chest and she could feel it practically beating savagely inside.

Anthony's eyes, which were still filled with sleep, didn't even know what was going on and he smirked. "Why are you eavesdropping?" He kept his voice low to match hers. "Is there something big going down?" He moved past her and went down a couple of steps to listen in. "Oh. That. It's just my Grams and Samantha." He said over his shoulder with a whatever shrug. "Come. Let me introduce you." His hand, warm from just being in bed moments before, grabbed her above the wrist and he brought her down the stairs with him. When they walked in, Anthony stifled a groggy yawn and slowly announced, "Look who I bumped into just now."

She felt like she was put on the spot and placed a nervous hand over her elbow, rubbing and pinching the skin. Her naturally pink lips tried to form a smile but she just looked like she was about to sneeze instead. "Morning. Hello…um…" The older woman was still hunched down in front of the rather bright pink car seat that looked out of place in the kitchen. Anya was fully aware that she looked a mess since she didn't expect to be spied out in the hallway. Her dark hair was sticking out everywhere from her loose ponytail, the black shirt she wore had a small hole near the center of it, just above her belly button. She dropped the hand that was messing with her elbow to try to cover the hole up, suddenly feeling very self conscious. One of her fingers poked through the hole and she moved it across her smooth skin Everybody in the kitchen had already started their morning tasks and were busy getting breakfast together to even notice that she was standing around, internally beating herself up. "Do you guys need any help?" Her body moving to the counter where a carton of eggs were placed. Grams had removed the baby from her carrier and brought her over to Anya. "Oh my God." Anya squeed, forgetting that she was feeling all out of sorts from barely getting any sleep, meeting the famous Grams and now practically being face to face with the cutest baby ever. Shyness went out the window and Anya's pinky finger went up to Samantha's tiny brown hand , that was opening and closing at random on top of the old woman's red sweater clad shoulder. The little hand closed over her pinky and she bit back the urge to let out the longest aww that was currently being said inside her mind. She could definitely see the Jones' resemblance in the baby's facial features and she had the most beautiful blue eyes, which nearly matched her own. Something that she didn't really expect.

"Do you want to hold her?" Grams turned her face, her lips brushing against the soft black curls of the tiny baby, to give Anya a sideways look. "My arms are hurtin' something fierce and she shouldn't spend so much time in that thing." Looking closer she could see that the woman was indeed shaking from the exertion and Anya reacted quickly by gingerly removing the baby from her arms. "You're a Godsend, dearie. A real peach." Grams, exhausted, picked up her purse. "Marcus, hunny. I need to rest my bones. Care to make up the sofa bed for me?"

"I'll get that for you, Grams!" Anthony said, leaping over a kitchen chair to get close to his grandmother. "Besides. Marcela will grill me if I don't catch you up to speed about the wedding plans." He slipped his arm around hers, linking them together and both left the kitchen. That wasn't right for their grandmother to take the sofa bed when she could just use the one in Anya's room. She wanted to speak up and offer her room to the woman, yet they were gone. She turned her body, which was still cradling the baby in her arms and waited for Marcus to poke his head out of the fridge.

When he resumed his post at the stove, she walked, aware of how slippery the recently waxed floor was. She stood by his elbow and spoke up. "It's fine if she takes my room. I have no issues with sleeping on the sofa bed while she is here. Honest." She felt her forehead wrinkle up with worry because her young back could take the beating of the poor springs in a sofa bad. Grams, who they all had made such a huge fuss over to please for her arrival, didn't deserve to sleep on such a thing.

Mr. Jones, who was in the middle of spooning out the scrambled eggs that he had prepared, gave Anya such an understanding look. "Don't worry, An. She will actually be staying in Anthony's old bedroom. He volunteered his bed a couple of days ago. We can't have Grams laid up on that rickety old sofa bed. She'd never forgive Sheila or myself for that." The bacon on the frying pan crackled and Marcus turned down the heat. "Just go and take Sammi to the kitchen. Mercy and I will take care of placing everything on the table."

The girl did as she was instructed, stopping at the doorway to stop and watch Mercedes and her father put together a large breakfast for the Jones family. The baby had fallen asleep in her arms and she softly looked down at her angelic face. The fat little cheeks moved slightly as the baby made a sucking motion with her pursed lips. A few strands of Anya's hair fell over her eyes and she habitually shook her head to try to move them. In the process of doing so, she couldn't help notice that Mercedes was intently watching them. Her deep brown eyes, longingly looking at the baby and completely unaware that Anya was watching back. Anya, who had been trying to figure out the origins of the mystery baby in her arms for the past twenty minutes, and it dawned on her that the mother was looking right at the bundle of joy in Anya's arms.


	4. All She Wants for Christmas

The hustle and bustle that the family in the quaint 2 story home went through to prepare for the grandmother' s visit calmed after everybody settled. Christmas Eve was spent around the living room, Sheila and Marcus retelling old stories about past holidays when Mercedes and Anthony were younger. There were quite a few "Mom. Don't tell her that!" and "Oh my God…" with an accompanying face palm. Even Grams, who had awoken from her nap, joined in with singing a few carols to Sammi who slept in a portable crib that Anthony had set up near the center of the room. They made sure to keep the crib a safe distance away from the cozy fireplace because nobody wanted to cook the poor child.

Anya, after a big breakfast, and even heavier lunch, felt herself get drowsy halfway through their reminiscing. When Grams first arrived she didn't quite get why the whole house went insane in preparation for her. It only took that one look from Mercedes to figure out that it was really all for Sammi. Grams had taken in Sammi after she was born, two months ago, and they wanted to show their appreciation for her by going all out this Christmas. Anya had to learn this tid bit of information from Anthony, who was always more than willing to clue her in with what she needed to understand their family better.

Anya's back, pressed against the leg of the loveseat that Mercedes and Grams currently occupied, looked upwards for no apparent reason and saw that grandmother and granddaughter were holding hands. There was such a strong bond that she could feel radiating from them that Anya, who had just met the elder that morning, couldn't help but tearfully smile at. She sucked her cheeks in and chewed back the tears, diverting her attention to her hands that were fumbling around with the forest green skirt she chose to wear for the day. All of that nervous movement with her hands wrinkled her skirt and stopped, attempting to smooth it out. The girl had such a soft spot for sweet gestures or things of sentimentality and her sensitive nature made it hard for her to look at something that oozed love without getting caught up in it.

Grams struck up a song of the Twelve Days of Christmas, which Anya would never admit to anyone that it was her favorite Christmas song, next to Carol of the Bells because of how long it can take to complete it. They were on Eight Pipers Piping when the front door opened. A slender, gorgeous woman with raven black hair that came down to her shoulders walked in, holding an armful of presents. Anthony bolted to his feet and embraced the new comer, gifts crinkling between them. "Mi amore. You are messing up the presents." a light voice, full of cheer and laughter exclaimed. The rest of the Jones rose to their feet and assisted the woman with all the boxes and gift bags. Anya used the arm of the sofa to help get to her feet and she made her way over, smoothing the back of her knee length skirt and tugging down the fabric of the red cardigan that her mother purchased for her before she left. "You must be Anya." large eyes, the irises near the color of honey looked at her. She felt so at ease with this woman that she didn't know what to say other than a quick nod. "I'm Marcela." She extended her hand out and Anya shook it gently, afraid of breaking her. She never thought she would find somebody who appeared more delicate than herself.

Anthony wrapped his arms behind his fiancé, kissing her neck in the process. I guess she has a thing for lost causes." They were beyond cute together and Anya could barely keep herself from foolishly grinning at them. "How was your drive over? You actually got here a lot faster than you thought?" The two of them started talking about her trip from Chicago and Anya half way listened. She didn't know of any of the cities or towns they were discussing and she quietly stepped to the side to allow them some privacy.

She went back to where she was sitting. Grams had resumed her spot on the white loveseat as well, and Anya lowered herself onto the soft carpet. She smiled at the woman with the salt and pepper hair, who in turn smiled back. "Anya, dearie. You are so quiet. If I haven't have heard you speak to me this morning, I'd assume you are mute." Grams picked up a basket of knitting and rummaged through it, pulling some pink and white yarn to the side. "There is no need to be bashful." Her hands, which had some traces of faint liver spots on the backsides of them , removed the basket from her shawl covered lap and left it on the unoccupied cushion next to her. "Do you have any stories you want to share about the holidays with your family? Spending time away from your loved ones can be tough on a young girl like you." The knitting needles clinked together as she readied a piece of yarn.

Anya put her hands on either side of her bottom and lifted herself enough to easily pivot her body around. She moved her legs to the side, so that her feet practically tucked underneath her. It wasn't that she was intimidated by the family, when she got used to her surroundings she could be quite chatty. The newness of everything practically kept her in a constant state of awe. It was as if her brain couldn't really process everything and just remaining as an observer instead of somebody who participated came easier to the girl. She softly bit her bottom lip in concentration, faintly tasting the cherry lip gloss she spread on them after she dressed this morning. What memory did she want to share with her? Most of the time she and her family kept things simple around their home during the holidays. It couldn't compare to the vacations that Marcus talked about earlier. "I guess you can say that my parents and I usually do things in our own way. Like, my dad always waits until Christmas is about three days away before he gets the tree. By then all the good ones are gone and we have like that reject tree." She started the story smiling already. "Mom would be like, 'Harold, you promised me last year that you'd be more on top of things. You really dropped the ball this time.' and then I just try not to laugh at their bickering. But, it's not like it's anything bad. We make the best of it every year. Mom'd get the decorations out from the attic while dad and I do what we can to position the tree to show it at its best angle." She was moving her hands in the air, pretending like she was turning a tree. "Oh. Then when it came to the actual decorating….that would take a couple of days. We'd start, then something would come on TV or one of my parents will remember that they forgot to buy a gift for so and so. Typically the tree would be done sometime around midnight on Christmas day. Which we'd always exchange a gift to each other then." The homesickness she felt earlier today couldn't even compare to what she currently felt. The sun had already set and Anya tried to gauge what stage of the tree decorating process her parents would be at by now. What if they didn't even bother with a tree this year? The smile that she had carried throughout the story faltered and she gave Grams an apologetic look. "Guess you can say that I do miss them."

The silver knitting needles were moving at a steady pace throughout her story and when she came to the end, they stopped and went down. The expression on Grams' face made Anya bring her brows together in determination to not have her feel sorry that she was here with them instead of spending Christmas with her own family. Anya had made the decision to come out here before the holidays and she needed to learn to deal with it instead of being an emotional mess. "It's fine. I'm fine." her voice came out sounding sure of itself, even though deep inside she felt that she just wanted to hug her mom tightly. _Too bad, it's not going to happen this year. _An upset voice inside her head spat out at her. _If you were able to just be strong in the first place then you'd be at home right now, laughing at how your dad had a knack of getting tangled up in the Christmas lights, instead of feeling somewhat out of place in a foreign country. _She knew that voice had its point and Anya, who had said more in one sitting to anybody her entire time her, felt herself clam up. She actually thought that after a week here, she was feeling better, but all it took was retelling an old holiday tale to have her revert back to the scared girl who first walked through that front door. "Seriously. I'm fine." Her own words lied to the woman who just wanted her to feel at home.

After dinner Anya excused herself from the family, who were on their 2nd helping of peach cobbler. She couldn't eat anymore and actually really wanted to speak to her parents more than anything. She entered her room and closed the door, flipping on the light switch. The laptop that her dad bought for her seventeenth birthday sat on the desk and she unplugged it from it's charger. Anya placed one of her knees on the bed; leaning forward and plopping the laptop in the middle of the mattress, watching it sink in the goose feather down comforter. She brought her other knee up and did a little walk until she was in the center of the bed. Her hands went to the red slippers she wore and pulled them off. They were tossed to the side of the bed and she stretched her arms high up above her head, hearing the satisfying pop in her back. Her head rolled from side to side, her own eyes closed, as she readied herself to speak to her parents via Skype. That was if they were actually online. Her hands opened up the laptop and booted it on. The familiar noise of the chat program loading made her laugh because it always sounded like something was about to take off. Her mouse wheel went down the list and she saw that they were indeed on. The white cursor double clicked on their name and she selected the voice chat option. The line rang and she fixed her hair by using the reflection of the laptop screen. She had her mouth open slightly as she made sure she didn't have any lip gloss smears on the side of her lips when the video screen popped up and her mother's confused face filled the monitor.

"Mom!" Anya, surprised and embarrassed, exclaimed. "Merry Christmas Eve from Lima, Ohio!" She happily waved. "Where's dad?"

"Where do you think he is" Her mom ask with a you know exactly what he is up to look in her grin. The image on the monitor shakily moved and it focused on her dad stuck to the tree, lights going in all directions. "You know how it goes every year." Her mom's voice echoed off screen. The camera shook and her mom's figure walked across the room, towards the tree. She picked up a lit up strand and began helping her husband free himself. "How you are, pumpkin? The Jones' treating you well."

God she missed her parents so and she thanked God for web cams. "Everything is fine here. We've been eating and talking. They had their tree up before I got here. Maybe we can try doing that next year, huh dad?"

"You're a riot, bumblebee." A muffled voice said from between the branches of the tree. "Then next year I will also decorate the front of the house with an inflatable snowman and build a minature Santa's workshop." Harold joked before a strand of lights choked him.

"Harold!" Pam went to her husband's rescue and detangled the best she could. There were lights and mumbled curses that Anya couldn't hear from the poor quality of the mic on their home computer. "How is it that a grown ass man such as yourself can't even decorate a simple tree without nearly killing yourself?" Her mother said as she walked away from the tree, towards the camera. The camera turned around and Pam's face, red coloring high on her cheekbones, look into the lens, adjusting it. "As you can see, it's the usual Christmas here." Her facial tones softened. "Things are quiet here without you."

With a shake of her head Anya remarked, "You sure? It sounds pretty crazy over there without me."

Pam waved her hand to the side, "Your father. Your father is unique. We'll just leave it at that." The woman's eyes peered closer at the screen, "You're wearing the cardigan I bought you! Let me see it."

Anya pushed the laptop away from her, moving the screen until it looked like her upper body was only in the shot, the overhead light caused a glare and it gave the impression that she had no face, but the cardigan was in plain view. She extended her arms and heard her mom's comments about how nice it looked on her.

"That is such a great color on you. I think once the sales are set after the holidays, I'll buy you some nice cardigans and long sleeved shirts. You didn't pack enough when you left here. The rush you were in to get out, one would think your hair was on fire." It was rare for her mom to bring up how quickly she had left Toronto, and she knew it had to do with the holidays and the 6 hour distance they shared.

She took in a lungful of air, ready to tell her mom not to worry about buying her clothes, when there was a knock on the door. "Come in." Her voice called out, the laptop balanced on the knees of her crossed legs. Mercedes came in with an apologetic expression. "Hey. Want to say hi to my parents?" She asked, picking up the laptop and not really waiting for a reply from the girl. Mercedes waved at the camera shyly as Anya's parents, her dad finally free from the lights, came up to wish her a Merry Christmas. They exchanged a few words and Anya told them that she'll be right back. The laptop went down on the bed and she turned to face Mercedes. "What's up?"

"We're about to about some of the presents. Come down and join us." She tugged on her sweater as she spoke, her eyes looking into Anya's as she spoke. This was probably the longest time she held her gaze. Anya wondered if it had anything to do with what happened in the kitchen earlier and how she held the girl's daughter. Mercedes must know that Anya had figured out the big secret. The baby looked just like her, minus the blue eyes.

"Ok. I'll be right down." Her long, toned legs from years of cheerleading and dance, uncrossed and she scooted off the bed. "Got to go, mom and dad. We'll talk later on tonight or tomorrow morning. I love you and Merry Christmas!" She brought her lips close to the screen and made a couple of kissing noises before logging out. She slipped her shoes back on and went to the dresser. Mercedes was still in the room with her and Anya smiled her way. The lip gloss she used earlier was still in the middle of the dresser and she applied a fresh coat. "Is everything ok?" She asked as the brush glided across her bottom lip.

"I'm fine, honey. Just tired. Grams got here so early and the holidays can really wear you out." She huffed that last part out, rubbing her hands on the sides of her thick thighs. Anya couldn't tell if she wanted to talk about anything serious or not. The cap went back on the lip gloss and she pressed her lips together enjoying how silky they felt now. While she ran her fingers through her hair she remarked, "Sammi is a real cute baby. And she sleeps a lot. I guess that's normal for that age, huh?"

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders at the conversation they were having. "That I don't know. The only things I know about babies is what I learned online. It's not like I have any experience raising one." A brief hint of defensiveness was in her voice and Anya bite the inside of her cheek for even bringing Sammi up.

"I have zero experience with them. Hell, I'm surprised I was even able to hold her without injuring the little girl." She tried to make light of the situation and smiles, her eyebrows raised up in a please forgive, I don't know what is going on type gesture. Mercedes just gave her a look like she was a little strange and shook her head. The hoop earrings she wore clanked during the movement.

They were still in the bedroom, and Anya didn't get why. She thought that they were to open presents downstairs, yet there was no rush to get a move on. She was about to open her mouth when Mercedes confided in her, the one thing she didn't expect at that very moment. "Sammi is my daughter, Anya. She is my daughter and I don't know the first thing there is to take care of her. Some mother I am." The girl, who typically just played with her sweater sleeves or hugged herself actually stood rather straight and had such disappointment in her eyes. "Grams wants us to take her in and my mom has argued it. She thinks that I am not capable of being a fit mother and I want to prove her wrong."

This was quite a lot for her to take in. She and Mercedes never talked about anything heavy. Usually it was comments about how goofy Marcus was or maybe casual dinner conversation. Sometimes they'd even watch TV and laugh about stupid things that took place. So, her reaction to all of this was justified when all she could say was "Oh."

Mercedes looked her way and slumped. "It's not right of me to drop this on you, Anya. I'm sorry. I don't know why I just did that." Her body shifted and moved it's way towards the doorway when Anya stopped her.

"You- you caught me off guard. I just. Ok. I figured out that she's your daughter. I just didn't know that your mom doesn't think you are able to take care of her. Your grandmother, as strong as she is, needs help. And one thing I know about babies is that they are a fulltime job." For some reason Anya spoke this in a low voice, as if she didn't want the rest of the house to know what they were discussing. It was as if they were plotting to do something against the better wishes of Sheila Jackson. Well, maybe they were.

The back of Mercedes' shoulders moved forward as the girl hugged herself. "I never wanted Grams to raise Sammi. That was all my mom. After she was born they sent her away from me to live with her. Today is the first time I got to see her outside of the hospital. I want to hold her, smell her, enjoy her. My mother makes it impossible with her constant stares of disappointment. That she will never be able to see me as she used to. It's almost like I'm dirt to her, Anya."

"I'm sure it's not that bad…." she started to say and stopped. She didn't know exactly what went on in this house the week before she moved in. The way Sheila acted with the chores and preparation for the visitors actually terrified her. Sheila Jones was a nurse by profession, but Anya felt that the woman would have served better in a power job like an attorney or drill sergeant. "What do you plan on doing?"

Mercedes puffed her cheeks out as she tried to think of a reply. Her brown eyes, which happened to have rather dark circles underneath them, searched Anya for an answer. As if she held some sort of key to unlocking the chest to a better life. Unfortunately for Mercedes, Anya was equally lost and unable to provide proper advance. She's just a teenage girl, what kind of advice can she give, especially to somebody who wanted to get her baby back. The heavyset girl, who constantly dressed down in sweats that tend to drape off her body to hide any indication of if she had an actual figure underneath it, pouted and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything." With that the girl was out of her room and Anya heard the door next door open and close, the lock turning.

Anya, who still was uncertain on how she was to react to any of this, stepped through her open door, her arms holding herself tightly. Sounds of laughter and songs rose up from downstairs and Anya couldn't even sense the Christmas cheer anymore. Her mind was now on the girl, who had just opened up to her about the situation with her baby. A baby that she wasn't even given a chance to love. A baby who was downstairs in a room with a mother that wouldn't give her own daughter the honest chance to raise it. No. Any inkling of the holiday spirit she felt while she was on Skype with her parents was gone and there was no way that she would be able to brush this aside and go downstairs, pretending that Mercedes wasn't in her room, possibly crying. She ended up just leaning against the doorframe, the back of her head hitting hard against it as she wished she were able to come up with a solution to make everybody happy.


	5. Can't Keep Quiet

Christmas and New Years went by in a blur for Anya, which she was relieved for because there was fighting going on in the house and she wanted school to start already. After Mercedes spoke to her about the situation regarding Samantha, the Canadian girl didn't exactly know what to do. She was still new to this country, to this family, that it would have been totally out of line to speak to Mercedes' parents on her behalf. Yet, there was so much pain behind Mercedes' large brown eyes that Anya couldn't simply sit idle and watch the girl slip into a deeper pit of sadness than she already was in.

A couple of days after the New Year, Grams asked Anya to accompany her to the store. The older woman needed to stretch her legs from being holed up inside the home for too long. "We need to get you out and about in Lima, hunny. It's not healthy to stay indoors so much." It wasn't like she gave her much of a choice and the brunette readied herself quickly, throwing on jeans, a dark blue sweater and a pair of black earmuffs. She shrugged on her black overcoat as she made her way down the stairs. "Don't you look pretty? You should really smile more because I bet you have one that will make the boys go crazy." Anya gave her a strange look, not certain where in the hell that came from. "Settle down. It's not like I am taking you to meet a boy." This whole conversation was getting weird and Anya second guessed her decision on agreeing to tag along with her. "Hunny. Stop with that whole deer in the headlights look. We need to get going before nightfall."

Grams handed Anya the car keys to her white 4 door sedan once they stepped out into the cold, snow covered from walkway. Anthony and Marcela left a few days ago and the walkway hadn't been shoveled since. Anya took Grams' arm and they carefully stepped down the icy surface. "You're going to trust me with your car?" She questioned, her breathe coming out in a white puff as the keys were held tightly in her mittened hand. "I haven't driven here before and I don't even think I am legally allowed." Grams ambled up to the car and placed a hand onto the roof to steady herself from the walk. They both stood by the driver side door of the car while Anya tried to explain why it was probably not a wise idea to have her behind the wheel. She wasn't a bad driver or anything like that. She just felt uneasy driving in this country and that she'll be in somebody else's car and with grandmother Jones in the passenger seat.

It was as if the older woman didn't listen to any of her protests, making her way to the other side of the vehicle and opening the door. "If we happen to perish in a fiery auto crash, then I know I have lived a full life." Grams said, already strapping into the passenger seat. "I hope you can say the same for yourself, dearie." Anya had her head ducked down, looking at the woman through the foggy glass, only hearing her muffled voice. She felt her body straightened up, Anya looking towards the darkening blue sky as she did a quick prayer in hopes that Karma wouldn't decide to bite her in the ass this late afternoon. She felt it would be for her treatment towards those she unintentionally hurt with her behavior in her last couple of months back at home. She entered and sat inside the car, going through the routine of preparing for a drive. Anya turned the car on and pressed made certain to get the heater running because it felt like they were inside an ice cube. "You are such an uptight young lady. You might be as bad as Sheila." The thin eyebrows on Anya's face came together in a worried expression that she saw in the rearview mirror. There was no way she could be as bad as Mercedes' mom. This was the woman that prevented her own daughter from raising the baby she desperately wanted in her life.

"Am I really that bad?" her voice uncertain and a little hurt. "I don't mean to be. It's just - " Fingers tensely gripped the steering wheel as her mind fumbled for a reason as to why she was so reserved. Homesickness constantly weighed on her, along with the feeling of guilt for leaving her friends and family without much of a real explanation. Well, Owen knew the truth, but it wasn't like they were on speaking terms anymore. "I'm still adjusting and I don't want to annoy anybody here with my rambles. I'm not uptight, at all. That's the truth." Blue eyes, dark inside the car due to its tinted windows searched into Gram's amused brown ones. The woman's tender look gave Anya the impression that she understood where she was coming from and gave the fair skinned girl in the driver's seat a soft reassuring pat on the shoulder.

A tender moment, one that Anya didn't expect for them to share, came and went when a squirrel jumped onto the hood of the car. "Good lord almighty! That rodent scared me half to death!" Her voice, shrill from the fright filled the now cozily heated car. "We better move on out of here before my car is bombarded with anymore of those creatures." The car carefully pulled out of the driveway and slowly headed towards the store as Anya sweated over the possibility of hitting a patch of black ice if she were to go too quickly.

The following couple of hours rapidly passed and she found out that Grams was actually real easy to speak with. They joked, shared laughs and Anya even opened up a bit about how she actually came out here to try to find something better for her life. Grams applauded her for taking that step and encouraged her to actually make an effort and do what she can while she was away from home. "When I was your age, I already was pregnant with Nathaniel and working a job as a seamstress. You shouldn't waste your life waiting for things to happen to you. Not at all. If you do, then you will be setting yourself for a life of disappointment." They were walking down the sidewalk in front of a shopping center and the woman paused. There was a wooden bench nearby and they went to occupy it. "You and Mercedes have your lives ahead of you and all I've seen you do is sit indoors and stay in your bedrooms."

"I don't know anybody here, and I just don't want to bother Mercedes. She seems to have enough to worry about." Anya said. She could feel that concern for the girl, whose room was next to hers, bubble up inside of her. She brought her mittened hands together and nervously clapped them between her knees. She was hunched of and chewed on her bottom lip. "Can I ask you something?" She kept her face forward, blankly staring at a pane of glass that showed the inside of the Bath & Body Works. An employee was removing the last of the holiday decorations and Anya huffed, waiting for Grams to accept or decline her question.

Through the reflection in the glass, Anya saw that Grams nodded her head. "Is there something the matter? You're pale. Paler than usual. You should consider getting some sun once the weather warms up. Good lord, hunny." The woman joked, in an attempt to alleviate the sullenness that Anya's mind had inhabited.

"It's about Mercedes and Samantha…" This was such a sensitive topic and it shouldn't come as a surprise that Anya had pieced together the situation just by the constant comments and snide remarks that Sheila Jones threw in the direction of her daughter. They weren't really mentioned in front of Grams, but whenever the old woman wasn't in the room, Sheila was right there with saying how Mercedes will ruin her future if she raises a child at 17, or how people lose respect for teen mothers. It really was ridiculous how she came up with some of these things. It wasn't like Mercedes ever defended herself or Samantha. She'd just sit at the dinner table, the living room, wherever they were. There was even one particular night when Anya was reading a magazine and she couldn't concentrate because Sheila was going over an adoption agency pamphlet that she picked up on her way home from the hospital she worked at as a nurse.

Grams tightened the scarf around her neck, the sides of her eyes, deep cracks in her crow's feet went down as her face went gray, gray enough to match how the clouds overhead as snow poured down around them. "Mercedes deserves to raise that child as her own. Before she caught pregnant, that girl was singing and dancing. She always had something to share during our telephone conversations. This person that you have met, that's not the granddaughter I know. She's a stranger to me and possibly to herself. I'm just an old woman. All I can do is offer advice and if she takes it, so be it."

"Can't you talk to Mrs. Jones? She must listen to you at least, right?"

Laughter, not of the comical type but more of an exasperated one, came out of Grams and she shook her head slowly. "Have you met her? That woman is as stubborn as a mule and as mean as a rattle snake in the middle of the hot desert. Marcus loves her to death, even though I think that temper of hers is causing some serious harm to her children."

"Oh." That was all she could say to this. What else was there to add? Anya had only been living there now for close to a month and as a guest in that home she shouldn't even be discussing these personal matters. They pertained to the lives of the Jones family and her prying wasn't helping anybody. Yet, she couldn't quiet that voice in her head and she knew that Grams was the only person that she could speak to that wouldn't brush off what was on her mind. "I just think….well. A baby shouldn't be given up for adoption if the mother wants her. You know? It just feels wrong to me, and I know that this is eating up Mercedes. She never talks and I think she spends all her time in her room crying. It's so quiet in there..." A strong wind blew flurries into their faces and Anya felt the cold flecks of ice nip at her overheated cheeks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking about this."

Silence weighed in as people went past them. Anya could smell the overpowering fragrances from the shop waft over to them and it made her nauseous. "When we return I will have a sit down with Marcus and Sheila." Grams started to say, bringing her scarf over her mouth to cover up the cold breeze that rocked them. "Everything that has been discussed as been pointless bickering and maybe it's time for Sheila to get a dose of common sense thrown at her. Seventeen is old enough to make your own choices. I did it and I wouldn't trade any of my choice in for anything. Also, that son of mine needs to grow a backbone. All he does is lets that woman talk down to his children. One would think that he doesn't wear the pants in that family." Anya nodded her head throughout all of this and mentally wished the woman luck. Gram sighed, apprehensive stress exhaled as she stood. "No time better than the present." Anya followed her back to the car. "It feels like I'm walking the green mile." The woman stated through her cream colored scarf, hand pressed tight against the side of her face to keep the wind from flapping it away, when they neared the car. Perplexed by this sentence, Anya shot her a look of understanding, when in reality she had no idea what in the world she had just said to her.

When Grams and Anya returned home, the woman was ready to take on this discussion. Anya volunteered to bring in all of the groceries on her own which allowed the woman to march right in and confront her relentless daughter-in-law. Honestly, Anya didn't want to be in the house when all of this went down, even though it was because of her that this would be taking place. She stalled in the back of the car, trunk popped open, and pointlessly arranged the groceries before scolding herself to just do the task and get inside. The temperature was dropping and it felt like her nose was going to freeze off her face. She walked in with about three bag in her hand when she heard the adults speaking downstairs in the basement. The door was propped open, but she could tell that they were trying to do this without Mercedes overhearing from her bedroom upstairs. Anya went and closed the basement door, sealing the discussion out. She was curious with what will be decided in the end, but it wasn't her place to eavesdrop over this. She put everything away in the pantry and went up to her room.

Right when she was about to open her door, Mercedes came into view next to her. "Are they talking about Sammi and me?" She asked while carrying the baby, lightly patting her tiny back. This was new to Anya to see this since Sheila tried to keep Mercedes' contact with the baby limited. Maybe there had been some progress while she and Grams went to the store. Anya firmly nodded her head and looked down. "Is it anything good?" Her reply was a shrug and Mercedes continued to stand there, rocking back and forth on her feet. "You said something to my Grams, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I did. I'm sorry. I just..I just didn't think I could stay quiet about all of this." Anya apologized, making eye contact with Mercedes. "Your grandmother wants you to keep her too and it's just stupid how your mom wants to keep that from happening." She bit her tongue. "I guess I'm nosey. Butting in when I shouldn't be."

"No. Don't be sorry, boo. I am happy that you have stepped in because maybe I might be able to keep her in my life." Mercedes hugged her daughter close to her body and Anya actually felt a warm hug envelop her heart just then.

"Maybe." Anya said with a small uncertain smile. "I really do hope things work out for you, Mer. You deserve to be happy and Samantha will be lucky to have a mom like you." She pressed her hand onto Mercedes' forearm and squeezed it; the baby's foot lightly kicked her as she did so. Anya laughed. "Wow, she is pretty strong for only being a couple of months."

Later that evening, while Anya and Mercedes were in the secondary living room on the 2nd floor, a decision was made in the basement amongst the adults. It was one that the three of them felt would benefit everybody involved and it left one of them particularly unhappy with the results.


	6. And So It Begins

It was finally the night before the first day of school and Anya had the most difficult time getting her mind to calm down. How will this place be like? Will she fit in with everybody, or will she stand out? Mercedes made it seem like she was getting worked up over nothing, but she hadn't really talked to anybody else her age since she moved out here nearly five weeks ago. Her tired and anxious mind eventually found what it needed to lull her to sleep, the girl hugging a pillow as the first glimpse of a dream to be when she was disturbed by a shrill cry. Annoyance was all she felt now as her bloodshot eye opened up and she groaned. Sammi was awake again.

In reality, Anya hasn't had a good night's rest in nearly three months, so this disturbance typically wouldn't have bothered her. Unfortunately she was in desperate need of rest because she knew she would have to rely on her brain to get her through with learning a new class schedule and layout of a school. Also, she hasn't been feeling all that well and feared that she might be coming down with a cold. That would suck. Not only would she be the new girl in school, she could possibly be that annoying person that constantly sneezed or coughed in the classroom. Before she settled into bed three hours ago, Mrs. Jones gave her some Nyquil to help her get to sleep and hopefully knock out any ill feelings she had. Drowsiness set in immediately and she just felt like she had been dipped in cement, weighing down the mattress with her body, but sleep didn't accompany it. When she was finally on the cusp of it she had to deal with a crying baby.

She really shouldn't complain as Mercedes had it worse After Grams and Mercedes' parents had the lengthy discussion about where Samantha should stay, the girl who was depressed without her baby girl, was called down and explained how serious motherhood was and that it wouldn't be simple. Anya wasn't there for this, but she was told by an overly exuberant Mer when she found out that she would be able to raise her little girl after all. That happened a week ago and since then the entire house was on the edge of sleep deprivation and crankiness due to the lack of sleep. Sammi was a fussy baby, adorable and fun when she wasn't bawling, but extremely irritable at all hours of the day.

Anya rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the bed sheets up to her under her chin, in hopes that if she were to get herself as comfortable as possible that she could trick herself into falling asleep even with the wails from the room over. Nope. Not even the beyond soft feather down comforter could help her now. She sat up, body swaying side to side as she got used to the new position. One of her feet dropped down to the floor, toes tracing the carpet as she readied herself to stand. With a push she wobbled forward and rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. Anya left her room, the hallway dark at the 2 o' clock hour of the night, and she went to Mer's door.

Her knuckles rapped against the hollow door that didn't contain the sounds of the baby inside. Mer opened it, holding Sammi, looking a right mess. As she should! After all this time it was a miracle that she could even function anymore. Anya extended her arms out as if she were about to take a sack of flour instead of a 3 month old baby. With much appreciation on the exhausted girl's mocha skinned face, she passed the wiggling baby over to Anya. She moved her tired body over to the rocking chair as Mer went downstairs to warm up some milk hoping in vain that the baby was just hungry.

Sammi's tiny hands opened and closed, shaking fiercely back and forth, with her cries. "What?" She asked quietly, drained from even trying to be sweet anymore. "Why are you crying? It's not like you don't get enough love here!" She normally didn't talk like this to Sammi but this was night 6 with the seemingly unhappy baby and she just wanted her to stop. She held her close and gently rocked, humming a random tune. It felt like the bags under her eyes were getting heavier, which sounded preposterous but it really did. It seemed that Sammi knew she was thinking about the dark circles under her eyes because a tiny fist came up and whacked her there. "Ow! Sammi!" She maneuvered the baby around so she could put her hand to her streaming eye. "Dangit. That really hurt." Stings and tears poured from her left eye and she rose to her feet. She bit down on her bottom lip hard to keep herself from cursing at the infant. It wasn't like she had planned to hit Anya in the face. Or did she?

She walked around the dimly lit room and stepped on a stuffed animal, nearly sprawling across the floor with Sammi. A bunch of lights splashed across the wall in front of her and, she had a quick heart attack moment when she thought she was about to bite it on the floor. It took much stumbling but she steadied the two of them. Anya kicked the stuffed Dream Lite turtle to the side. "Dream Lite my ass. You're job at comforting this crazy baby is a joke." She mumbled more unpleasant things to the turtle while Sammi struggled in her arms. When she felt all hope was lost, Mer appeared with a bottle and fresh swaddling cloths.

Anya handed her over, Sammi's hand stuck in her hair in a brutal tug of war battle between the two exhausted teen girls. Trying to pry her hands was difficult and she felt like maybe she'd just stand there for the rest of the night and pray that she could sleep while standing up. Mer teased the baby's lips with the rubber nipple from the bottle as she held onto Anya's hair for dear life. The cries softened and the baby took much interest in the new item that Mer pushed into her mouth. The pain Anya felt when her hair was tugged subsided and Sammi let go. The baby quietly fed on the bottle, sucking noises and faint music from the crib played a relaxing tune into the room. The girls looked at each other and Anya gave Mer a quick congratulatory kiss on the cheek before returning to her own room, practically collapsing sideways on the bed with her legs hanging off the edge of it.

Morning was hell. The sunlight hurt, the idea of getting up and taking a shower made her goan and the nerves she felt the night before about starting school made her physically ill. Her throat tickled slightly and she knew that the medicine she took the night before didn't help at all. Mrs. Jones opened the door to pester Anya out of bed, and if it was her own mother doing that she would have thrown something, anything at her to shut her up. "I think I'm going to die today." Anya spoke to the ceiling after Sheila left her to get ready. "Yes. I will die." Zapped of all energy and desire to get ready, she forced herself out of the cocoon she had made out of the blankets. "Ugggggh." she grumbled and moaned all the way to the bathroom, pressing her hand against the wall next to the door not sure if somebody was in there or not. She felt dizzy and disgusting. How was she to make a first good impression when all she wanted to do was punch anybody that said a single word to her?

She readied herself as quickly as possible and the shower she had before actually did help her wake up. The warm water practically washed away all of the ickiness and exhaustion she had woken up with. The night prior she had prepared for today and was now in front of the mirror adjusting the black clips she had placed into her thick brown hair to keep her long bangs from getting into her eyes. Anya rummaged through her purple makeup kit, picking out soft tones of grays and pinks to match the outfit she chose to wear on her first day of school. With a quick dusting of some icy blue eye shadow to lessen the brightness of the pink, a penciling of the shimmery black eyeliner and press of lips to blot the subtle pinkish lipstick she gave her reflection a warm smile making sure her makeup looked fine with a final lookover. Anya felt the first bits of actual excitement to get to school and meet people settle in over her like a freshly laundered sheet. She stepped away from the dresser mirror and took in the entire outfit she had put on. Her new pink and white Alpine sweater that Sheila and Marcus gave her for Christmas was oh so warm and quite adorable if she must say so herself. She loved how it fit on her body and thought the design was cutesy. Anya decided to match the baby pink in the sweater with a dark gray knit cap that had a white poofy little pom pom on top of it along with her favorite pair of white mittens which would keep her hands warm from the blistering cold. She wished she had a new coat to match this outfit, but her white wool one with the golden lining would look pretty great with what she had on. When everything was put together, her dark blue jeans tucked into her black, cotton lined boots she knew she was ready to tackle McKinley High School.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones both had to work that morning so Anya was left on her own to face the school principal. Sheila had enough time to drop her off at the front of the school and gave her an encouraging pep talk the whole drive there. Anya originally was to have Mercedes give her a tour of the school, but all changed with Sammi was taken in causing Mer to take time off from her classes to take care of the infant. The talk that Sheila gave her made Anya feel like she was a little girl that was about to attend her first day in elementary school. Even at this point she probably wouldn't have protested the motherly woman to take her hand and lead her inside the school, just like her own mother did all those years ago.

Students, in a daze from their winter holiday break, zombie walked into the large school shaking off powdery snow from their coats and jackets. The pristine hallways buzzed with chatter and groups of kids hugged and loudly talked about what they did during the holidays. Nobody paid her any mind and she didn't know whether to feel relief or hurt. It didn't take long for her to dwell on this as she was now in the front office. The paperwork that Principal Simpson mailed to her a week prior clutched in her trembling, damp hand as she explained who she was to the secretary. Papers were exchanged and she looked them over before announcing to the small Indian man standing in front of his desk who was in the middle of a morning stretch, or so it appeared that she was there to see him.

The man waved her in and Anya looked over at the secretary that gave her an assured smile. Anya hesitantly stepped inside the office with it's glass walls that faced out to the front of the office. She could see kids walking up and down the hall just beyond the receptionist's desk and Anya felt some relief that it wasn't shut off. She wasn't one to get claustrophobic, but she never really liked being in a small room closed off room, especially when she was this nervous.

"Have a seat, Miss MacPherson." The man said in a voice with a rather thick accent. She did as he instructed, placing her backpack and purse on the floor next to her foot. "First off, greetings and salutations from the McKinley Titans. You should fit in nicely here." He continued to speak, Anya straining to understand him. "It's a pleasure to have the exchange program between your school and our own. Your principal helped open up a way to save a good chunk of change by propositioning this idea during an online Scrabble game." Anya did not know what he was speaking about and honestly didn't want to inquire about it. "Now. Here is the map to our school, do not go into the red sections I have highlighted for you. Hoodlums spend their time there and we do not need to worry about our Canadian student to spend her time in the nurse's office." She pulled the map from the glossy surface of the desk and looked it over. Sure enough, there were a couple of small spots that were bright red and said 'Stay Out' on them. "Here is your class schedule and locker number and combination. You will be in the same classes with another student from your previous school. Imogen Moreno. She has already been by this morning and she is such a breath of fresh air with those tiny cat ears she worn to school." exclaimed the small man in the brown suit and black tie as he stood up behind his desk and extended his hand out to her. Anya followed his lead and did the same, giving him an uncertain handshake, as if she has just signed her life away. "May your days be ever so pleasant in our school. If there is ever a problem, figure out how to solve it yourself." Anya let go of his hand and gave him an absurd stare. "I'm only joking. The other girl was more into my sense of humor than you are." She gave him a nervous chuckle and retrieved her items from the floor, hurriedly leaving the office and out into the sea of students as the first bell was merely moments from ringing.

She barely made it into her seat when the bell brrnged. The teacher was behind his desk, not really in a hurry to start the lesson. Fellow students were either on their phones or talking amongst themselves. Anya had placed herself in the back of the classroom and slunk down. She was in the senior level History class and just stared at the various maps and pictures of historical figures that adorned the walls of the room. She felt like she blended in with the back of the room and realized that she was the only person still wearing her coat. The bashful girl, who was feeling out of place and alone, removed her coat one arm at a time, still looking towards the front of the room. When she moved her eyes out towards the window she saw a girl who fit the description that the principal gave and knew that she must be seeing the back of Imogen Moreno's head. Anya and Imogen didn't really talk much back at Degrassi. She had seen the girl around the halls and knew that she was close to Fiona. Actually, Fi and Imogen had been working on a Frostival Carnival before she left and now she wondered how that all turned out. She was more curious as to why she was here and not back in Toronto. There was an empty seat next to her and Anya considered relocating to it, just so she could have somebody to talk to instead of feeling like an isolated loser.

The history teacher was going over a book on his desk, lost in deep thought and Anya decided to hell with it. She gathered her backpack, coat and purse and moved up as quietly and stealthily as possible. The wooden chair creaked under her weight as she sat down and settled in. She halfway turned to say something to the fellow Canadian when the teacher decided that he would start the class instead of doing whatever it was he was doing for the past five minutes. Currently she was sideways in her seat, leaned forward, in a stance where she could easily speak to Imogen. Before she had a chance to turn around the girl next to her noticed that she was about to say something and she gave Anya a playful little wave. The cat ears, that practically blended into her hair, looked quite adorable and she wished she could wear something like that without feeling positively goofy. Anya returned the wave and mouthed out "Hi". Then she had no choice but to right herself in her desk and listen in for the remainder of the class.

History seemed like it was going to be difficult course for her to grasp. It required a ton of reading, which with her dyslexia, could make things rather tedious for her to do for long spans or time without getting a pounding headache. Why couldn't they just have textbooks in audio book format instead? It would make her life that much easier. They were relieved from the class by the bell and Anya finally had a chance to say hello to the girl next to her. "Hi. Finally." She said with a breathless laugh as she picked up her stuff. "I'm-" She started to say but was interrupted.

"You're Anya Marie MacPherson from Degrassi Community School. You were on the Spirit Squad and worked on the Anti-Grapevine with Chantay Black. My name is Imogen Moreno. Pleased to meet you." The girl, who was maybe an inch or two shorter than her, appeared to practically loom over Anya with how she knew her name and what she did in Degrassi. Anya took her hand into hers and shook it. Today seemed to be a day for handshakes.

"How did yo-" Once again she was cut off by the girl, who looked openly excited to have somebody to talk to.

"How great is this? You and me here in Ohio. It's like we are destined to be best friends. Best friends forever!" Her enthusiasm was contagious and Anya actually found herself chuckling at this. "What is your next class? Let's sit together and talk about anything and everything all at the same time!" Oh my. This was going to be something to get used to. The last time she had to deal with an energetic person this early in the morning was when her mother had one too many cups of coffee and made Anya reinact her favorite movie scene from Mommie Dearest. They were in the middle of doing laundry and her mother burst out into laughter when she picked up a wire hanger triggering the monologue request. That was one of those moments that she was so glad her mom was as big of a nut as she. Hell, she learned it from her.

Anya removed the slip of paper that contained her class schedule and read "Math" out loud. "I think Principal Figgens mentioned you and I will have similar schedules." She said slowly, reading over the rest of her day while Imogen busily chattered about how her day was going so far. Which Anya didn't know how she could talk so much about since they just finished their first class. Actually, it was quite refreshing to have somebody that was as happy as she was since home was up and down in the regards to moods.

The two girls walked out of the classroom together, Imogen hugging her school books close to her chest and Anya still with her backpack and coat drapped over her arm, moving slowly next to her. "Do you know where this class is? I'm still super lost here." She confessed, looking at the numbers above the doors. They continued to move down the center of the hall, students move along the sides of them as the two exchange students familiarized themselves with their new surroundings.

"Not a clue. We can make an adventure out of it. I can be the captain and you will be my navigator." She pretended to look through a spy glass around the hallway, which warranted her some strange looks from passer bys. Anya actually heard somebody mumble 'Freaky bitch.' under his breath and she shot him a rather dirty look. Even though she was new, there was nothing right about somebody calling a person a name, especially that one. Imogen didn't even seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't let it phase her. She continued on about what type of treasure they might find in the classroom when Anya realized she really needed to put her things into her locker. Luckily she knew that it was next to the History class they were just in and she kicked herself for not going to it right after they left the room. Oh well.

"Hey. I'll, uh, I'll meet you there. Alright? Save me a seat." Anya said with a smile and Imogen nodded her head in approval.

"See you soon, Anya Marie MacPherson." With that the girl, with the cat ears and brown hair in a few tight buns turned and headed into the direction of their math classroom and if Anya hadn't been looking closely, she would have missed that the girl was actually skipping.

She turned and headed back the way they had come, trying to race against the clock. A few kids pushed past her as they tried to hurry to their classrooms as well. She neared her locker when she heard somebody's laugh. It wasn't a laugh that was directed towards her, but more of a warm, sincere chuckle that actually made her stop in her tracks. She looked around, in search of the source when her eyes fell upon a rather handsome looking blonde boy who was leaning against a one of the locker. He was in the middle of a conversation, another laugh escaping him as he slapped his friend on the back of the shoulder with what she assumed was a form of approval for whatever topic they were discussing. Anya couldn't help but stare at him. There was something in his relaxed nature that really spoke out to her and she found herself drawn to him. He was wearing a white and red letterman jacket, so it was safe to assume he played sports. His blonde hair, which had fallen over his eyes as he laughed was quickly shaken back with a reflexive toss of his head that she actually felt her heart skip a beat. She had no idea who he was and was completely unaware that she was standing in the middle of the hallway gawking, until somebody came up behind her and rudely asked her to get out of the way. She snapped out of her trance and turned around to see a hulky guy give her an impatient look. It was the same person that called Imogen that nasty name. "Are you just going to stand there, shorty? Do you need me to move you myself?" He bellowed and Anya stepped to the side and frowned down at the ground. That didn't take long, she thought to herself, her cheeks red with embarrassment. When she looked back up to where the blonde boy was standing before she noticed him glancing back at her. She diverted her eyes quickly, feeling even more like a fool and hurried to her locker to drop off her things, unable to get the boy, who was smirking back at her moments before, out of her mind.


	7. Chills, Math and Daydreams

The remainder of the day went rather slowly as both Imogen and Anya trekked through their schedule together. It was pleasant to have somebody that Anya could speak to about home and not have to describe the places or people that lived there. By the end of the school day, Imogen had Anya laughing so hard that her cheeks actually felt ready to pop. They weren't even talking about anything in particular, it was as if a spigot that had been clogged up in Anya's mind had finally loosened and she was able to be herself again. The girl that she was before that night at the club.

That flu she was worried about getting still teased her, her throat dry and itchy and even a bit of a chill went through her body, possibly indicating the sign of a low grade fever. They stood at Anya's locker as she tried to remember her combination by heart. She turned the pad a few times, failing to get the combination and had to resort to using the paper that she had tucked away in her front pocket. Imogen's back was to the locker next to hers as she people watched doing commentary similar to the stylings of the Crocodile Hunter. She even had the Australian accent down pat. Anya pulled open her locker door with a twange and yanked out her coat, pulling it on and hugging herself tight with it. Yeah. She had a fever. Great.

"And what do we have here. It appears that a lone cheerleader had escaped from her flock. See how she gracefully saunters down the hallway. Oh no. Troubles a foot." Imogen paused for dramatic effect. "A group of Goths near the fidgety cheerleader and she doesn't know whether to retreat to the watering hole or return to her flock back around the bend." The side of Anya's lips turned up, even though she was shivering as she pictured what was taking place behind her. "They near the blonde and she freezes. Will this be her demise or will she prevail?"

She removed her backpack and purse from the locker and closed it with a gentle push. "Have you thought about signing up for the drama club here? You'd be great on stage." Anya said, shouldering her backpack and slipping her purse onto her shoulder. "If you auditioned with that bit alone they might even let you have your own one woman show." Imogen appeared to be deep in thought at this idea and Anya started to walk towards the front of the school. Sheila told her before she was dropped off this morning, which felt like it had happened days ago instead of eight hours prior, that she would be there around 3:30. Anya wasn't one to keep somebody waiting, especially when the woman was usually drained after standing on her feet all day at the hospital. Sheila always took a hot soak in the garden tub whenever she arrived home. Anya did not want to come between Sheila and her evening soak as it would end with her upset and alone in her bedroom.

"Why Anya Marie. I am flattered that you fancy me to do stage performance." Imogen said in an accent that came across as something she heard in a movie with Rhett Butler and Scarlatt. The name of the film escaped her, but she totally recognized that accent. "Do you think the school would be able to handle little ol' me? I don't want to come across as some poor girl that doesn't know what she is doing." With that Imogen placed her forearm to her face and feigned fainting, pressing hard against the brick wall near the front doors of the school."

Anya slowed her walk and stared at her new friend, shaking her head at the scene that just took place next to her. "You really are a weirdo, Imo. 100% weird. I wish I had as an imagination as you." This was true. Anya viewed herself as boring, that she didn't really stand out or do anything fun. She used to have her own little life back at home and the memories of her LARPing days did pop up every once in a while. But that felt like it had all occurred to another girl that wasn't here and probably will never be her again. She felt miserable now, not because of how she constantly beat herself up making herself feel weak and worthless, but that she just needed to get a cup of hot tea or soup and curl up in a ball on the sofa in the living room.

Imogen dropped her arm from her forehead, light glinting off her glasses as she looked at Anya. "Everybody is creative. You just have to stop thinking and just do what comes natural. With me I learned to stop filtering myself. What you see if what you get. And that is how Imogen Moreno came to be." She gave Anya a tiny curtsey, her teeth, brilliantly bright, exposed in her smile. Anya really wanted to get more involved with the conversation and play along but she saw the Jones' SUV waiting for her up front.

"Looks like my ride is here. Do you want to meet me at my locker tomorrow morning?" She asked, walking backwards to the open door that lead outside. Imogen gave her the thumbs up and waved her off and Anya waved back. "See you then." She turned around and quickly went down the steps. The instant she climbed into the car, Sheila was about to ask how her day went but stopped picking up immediately that Anya was sick. She drove them home quickly and prepared a homemade chicken noodle soup and hot toddy. Anya spent the rest of the afternoon and evening under a mountain of blankets as she fought off the flu. Even Sammi kept quiet that evening, as if the infant knew that the ill girl needed as much rest as possible to get better.

Sheila checked in on Anya first thing in the morning and deemed her too sick to go to school. She tried to protest, saying that she had just started school and it would make a bad impression with her teachers but Mrs. Jones wouldn't hear any of it. And the same thing happened the day after that. Anya felt like death and felt like she would never get better. If Sheila wasn't a veteran nurse then Anya would have gone to see a doctor early on. By Thursday morning, after 3 days of being stuck in her bedroom on medical lockdown, that she awoke and felt like she could actually slink out of bed.

She stood in the bathroom, splashing cool water on her pale face, skin a bit gray from lack of sun, when her temporary mother walked inside and had her straighten up. Sheila gave Anya a look over, pressing a firm hand against her forehead and bringing out the quick check thermometer that she had been carrying around on her person whenever she was home. "Do you want to go to school today?" She asked Anya after reviewing the temperature on the digital screen. She nodded her head. It wasn't that she wanted to study or anything, she just needed out of her stuffy room. Even her joints ached from lack of movement. "Take your shower. I will get breakfast ready for you." Sheila gave Anya's shoulder a squeeze then patted it a few times before turning and leaving her alone in the brightly sunlit bathroom.

About halfway through her first period history class, Anya doubted her decision to return tot school as she felt lethargic and unable to listen. The teacher's voice droned and her eyelids felt as if they needed to be taped up in order to keep herself from falling asleep. After a couple of head bobs, a small pinch was felt on her arm and if she wasn't so drained she would have yipped at it. One of her hands went to rub away the tiny burning sensation, turning to see Imogen giving her a tsk tsk tsk face. The quirky girl opened her eyes as big as they could go which Anya didn't know if that meant for her to stay awake of if she had something to tell her afterwards. The bell, with it's louder than usual ring, actually made her jolt with fright. Why did this building use such a shrill sounding bell? Imogen waited for her at the head of the row and Anya had to wait for one of her classmates to finish shoving his books into an overstuffed backpack. Her friend impatiently hopped from one foot to the other, turning the little hop into a dance with hand movements. If only she could bottle that girl's energy. She could use it right about now.

Once Anya made it her new friend, Imogen lightly placed her hands onto her shoulders and said, "I've missed you, sicky. I was worried that you died." It was hard to tell if she was really worried or not because the girl was practically buzzing and had such a large grin that it animated her entire face. She almost appeared like a caricature, or a cartoon. Maybe Anya was still feeling the traces from the heavy medicine that Shiela had her take the past few days. "While you were off fighting germs, I made a new frieeeeeeend." Her voice small but hyper filled up the now empty classroom and it was hard not to smile at this, even though the act itself took up a lot of energy. "I'll tell you all about him." Imogen's cool hand wrapped around Anya's forearm, tugging her out into the packed hallway. They made a couple of stops at their lockers to get the textbooks for the next class. Imogen went into a play by play with how she met Blaine Anderson.

"Get this." Imogen said as they took their seats in the back of their math class. Anya's teacher e-mailed her all the assignments while she dying from the flu and she did not have the energy to even figure out the problems. As Imogen spoke, she opened her binder and looked at the e-mail print outs and bit the end of her pencil as she tried to work on the first problem. "There is a dance this weekend and Blaine invited me to go with him as his friend date. My first week here and I, Imogen Moreno," She said this in a cutesy singsong voice, "have been asked to the dance by a super cute boy. As a friend of course." Imogen, who had been sitting sideways on the top of her desk, hopped off it and walked behind Anya. Her face was next to hers as she looked over her work. "Oh. Here. I can do this for you." Without even waiting for Anya's response, the paper was slipped out from under her pencil tip. If she had been writing it would have left a long dark line on it. The helpful friend sat cross legged on the desk and filled in all of the empty areas with the answers. Anya wanted to protest and say that this was wrong and the teacher will know it wasn't her work, but it was too late now.

While Imogen worked on the problems, Anya looked at the rest of the classroom. The school had less people than Degrassi but she didn't know anybody other than Imogen. Her mind trailed off and she wondered about the blonde boy she saw at the lockers back on Monday. She didn't see him in any of her classes on Monday was curious if they were in the same grade or not. The erasure end of the pencil in her hand tapped on the desk at a steady pace as she thought about his laugh, causing her to smile. He might be at the dance that Imogen had mentioned, she thought to herself. It wouldn't hurt to go just to check it out and possibly run into him. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice her friend was trying to get her attention. "Earth to Anya Marie. Come in Anya." A couple sheets of paper were shaking in front of her face and Anya snapped back. A chuckle and nervous run of her hand through her hair indicated that she was just busted daydreaming. "Your work has been completed! You'll get an A and the teacher will love you." She took the sheets from Imogen and looked them over.

"I think you might need to tutor me, Imo. I- I don't really know what any of these things mean." Her finger trailed along the answer to number 3 and she shook her head. "I'm screwed if there is a quiz today." Her voice lowered when the teacher entered the room and began writing problems on the board seconds after placing his coffee cup on the desk up front. Imogen gave her a quick grin and confessed that she really got help from her dad. "Oh? Well. Maybe he can help me then? I know I will need it." Anya lowered the paper and fixed her hair into a ponytail. The heater in the room felt uncomfortably warm and she could feel her neck get damp from sweat.

"That's if you can catch him whenever he or my mom are in town. They moved us here from Toronto for work and they promised me that we would be a closer family. No enchilada. I see them once every two weeks." She paused to think if this was correct. "Strike that. Once every three weeks. My dad worked around his busy schedule to be in town for me. He wanted to see me off on my first day of school. It's been something that we've done since I was a little girl. He would drop me off and make sure I get in alright." the teacher up front snapped his fingers and signaled for Imogen to get into her seat. She continued to speak as she slipped down "There are a ton of kids that would be like, 'Ew. Your let your dad drop you off at school? Lame!' I don't care. All those nay sayers can just fall into the Veil from Harry Potter." Her friends pink tongue poked out and made a raspberry sound between her lips. The teacher did not like any of these interruptions and warned Imogen that if she were to make another peep, he'd give her detention. The girl lifted her hand up to her lips and made a locking gesture, giving Anya a wink afterwards.

There was nothing else to report for the rest of the day. Imogen and Anya had their lunch outside in the courtyard where a majority of the other students spent their break together. For the most part they were left on their own and part of Anya preferred it this way. The other part, the one that used to be a social butterfly yearned for somebody to introduce themselves to the girls yet that didn't happen. Mrs. Jones packed her a thermos of soup and she sipped it with ease, savoring how good it felt against her slightly irritated throat. During their lunch period and the other breaks between the final two classes, Anya kept on the lookout for him and it just made her stomach tie in knots whenever she saw somebody with a letterman jacket rounding the corner. Unfortunately when it came time for her to leave for home, she did not see him.

Why was she so caught up on this guy? It's not like she knew his name or anything about him, other than that alluring laugh and the way he carried himself during a conversation. It only took a minute in the hallway to get him stuck inside her mind. Anya had to focus on bettering herself while doing this exchange program. Not on boys. Especially with how she ended things with Owen the month prior. The girl never had luck with past relationships and it always seemed that whenever she got into one, it turned into her only thinking about the boy and less about herself. No. That was not going to happen here. She sat in her room, in front of the opened laptop at her desk. The math homework that Imogen had completed for her, sat on top of the keyboard. Anya's teacher never asked for it and she took this as a blessing so she could actually learn the material and not be embarrassed in front of the class like that one time when she was called out for plagiarism. The pencil she had in her hand had crept up to her lips and she subconsciously chewed on the end of the erasure, her mind a million miles away from the math assignment. It appeared that Anya will forever easily smittened and there was nothing she could do about it. Oh well. It's not like she minded thinking about him. If only she had more to go by. At least she didn't feel like absolute hell from the sickness she has for the last few days. The girl slowly worked on recreating the problems and goofed off on the internet in search of the school website to see if she could get anything to go by on the mystery guy. She got excited when she found a link to the site and practically booed out loud when it said it was under maintenance. "Whatever, Anya. Just let it go. Just stop." She scolded herself, standing up and walking away from the desk. The girl threw herself onto the bed, body bouncing a bit on the soft mattress and she buried her face deep into the pillow. It smelled fresh and there was a good chance the sheets were changed while she was in school. Anya, who was still internally lecturing herself, rolled over onto her back and placed both her hands to her eyes. "Don't fall for him. He is a stranger. You're not even going to be here past June. It's not worth working yourself into this. No. Don't crush. Don't nothing." It's sad when she had to have these talks, especially when she truly wanted to deal with what really happened back in Toronto and why she allowed the coke issue to get so out of control. Well, thinking about this guy did have her stop worry about that disaster, and in a sense that was a good thing.

It was late and Anya's body told her that these were things she could put off until tomorrow. She went through her nightly ritual trying to go about it as quietly as possible due to it being after 2am. Her feet tiptoed to the bathroom and she could hear the beginning of The Little Mermaid playing in Mer's room. The two girls have not chatted in a few days since Mercedes didn't want to expose Sammi or herself to the virus that Anya had. The girl dragged her tired body to bed, her mouth fresh from brushing and flossing, skin smooth from the scrub she had used and her hair in braids. Her sleeping schedule was still all fucked up from before, which made no sense to her because the girl loved to sleep. Trying to turn off the voices of self doubt and worry were what kept her up until all hours of the night. In time, she prayed, that will be a thing of the past and she would be back to how she was before.


	8. Progression Ahoy

Saturday evening rolled around and Anya hadn't decided if she wanted to attend the dance or not. Imogen had been busily describing what she planned to wear via FanMail on Tumblr. She leaned back in her chair and aimlessly scrolled through the website and reblogged pretty dresses and anything pastel. The winter blahs got to her and she was more than ready for Spring, which happened to be her favorite season. Imogen disappeared for about an hour due to her not replying to Anya's last message asking what their plans were after the dance. She placed her hands on the sides of the chair and pushed down on them giving her back a huge stretch. Did she really feel like getting dressed up? It would be nice to actually get all dolled up and talk to new people, yet that took effort. Which was something she was currently lacking. Her body plopped back against the soft back of the chair and she resumed goofing around on the Internet instead.

There was an indicator on the small white envelop when Anya returned to the Tumblr site and she read her friend's message. It said:

_Change of plans! We're off to the park instead. This is going to be fun! I'll tell you all about it later on tonight!_

Smooches!

_- Imo_

Well. Seems like the decision has been made. Anya didn't know anybody else at that school and she didn't want to go alone and feel like an outcast. There was always the possibility that Mercedes would like to go. She had been holed up in her bedroom since she took in Sammi. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Jones could baby-sit so the two girls can have fun together for a change instead of moping around in the house. Anya's hand went back to the armrest of the chair and lifted herself up, her legs unfolded underneath her and she jumped to her feet. Her knees were all poppy and she had to do a leg stretch to get all the kinks out.

There was a part of her that didn't really want to attend this dance and it was probably why she had waited until nearly an hour before it was scheduled to start to actually consider going. Imogen's message about spending the night at the park did bum her out because she did hope that they could spend time outside of school and on a night where she felt healthy again. Anya could have always asked Mercedes about it when she first learned that there was to be a dance but things had been somewhat tense again and she felt riddled with guilt if she bothered her with anything that didn't pertain to Sammi. Why couldn't Anya just bite the bullet and attend the dance on her own? She was less than 4 months away from her 18th birthday, hence making her old enough to go someplace without holding somebody's hand. Anya stood in front of her closed bedroom door, torn with what her next action should be. In her closet was a cute dress that she could adorn for the evening with a pair of sexy heels and a beautiful necklace that her grandmother brought back from a trip to Japan. The girl was personable, she can just talk to a random person and hopefully strike up a conversation. Yeah, she could do this. Any spun on her bare heels and skipped over to the closet when she heard a knock on the door that she had stood before three seconds prior.

She picked up her hairbrush on the way to the door and opened it. "Mercedes. Hey." She said, running the soft bristles of the brush through her shoulder length dark brown hair. "What's up?" Anya went to the large mirror on top of her dresser and resumed brushing.

Her housemate walked into the room, dressed in dark jeans and a zipped up red and black hoodie. "Do you have any plans tonight?" She walked up behind Anya and she put the brush down on the cluttered dresser top. This was rather amusing, considering she was to ask her to the dance before.

Thin fingers smoothed down her hair, tucking her forever obtrusive bangs behind her right ear. "Well. There is this dance tonight at the school. It's some sort of back to term type thing. I thought about going…" Her voice trailed ending on a hopeful questionable tone. Anya's attention went from her reflection to Mer's and she waited to see if she would be interested.

"No. That isn't something I really feel up for tonight. If you really want to go, then I understand." Mer, as usual, rubbed her arms and stopped suddenly as if she had touched something hot. Her eyes looked up at Anya, feigning a toothy smile. "Did somebody ask you to go?" Mercedes, who rarely showed her teeth when she smiled, actually she hardly smiled in the first place, looked absolutely beautiful when did. Anya wondered why the girl still didn't appear to be happy when she had her baby in the next room and her mother not constantly prodding her for making the mistake of allowing herself to get pregnant. Things in the Jones' household were tranquil for a change and yet, it still seemed that there was still something brewing under the surface.

When she heard Mer state she didn't want to go to the dance, Anya took it as a sign that maybe she shouldn't either. There would be other dances and who knows, something bad possibly will happen tonight if McKinley happened to be anything like Degrassi back home. Her previous school didn't have the best track record when it came to dances as a year before somebody pulled a knife on a student and most recently a kid was shot. Good times at Degrassi. Anya moved back a few steps and collapsed onto her bed, messing up her nicely brushed hair as she rolled over onto her stomach, her toes hitting the cool wall behind her. "Imogen - " Anya started to say and remembered that Mercedes spent all week at home and would have the slightest idea who she just mentioned. "She moved here from my home town. Her parents got jobs here or something. I planned on tagging along with her and her friend date. They changed their minds and decided it would probably be more fun to go to the park instead." A thudding sound came from behind her as her toes evenly bounced to and fro on the wall. "Did you have something in mind?" Her thin arms propped her upper body up and away from the headboard while Mercedes went from playing with the arm of her sweater to one of the fairy figurines on Anya's dresser. Something told her that Mercedes might actually like the little one she held in her hand and made a mental note to get something similar to it whenever she received her allowance from her parents.

Mercedes returned the figurine to her dresser, lost from Anya's field of view due to all of the crap she's tossed on there throughout the last week, and turned her body to the girl in the bed. "I don't even know. I've been cooped up in here for much too long. We can go to Breadstix. You haven't been there yet I don't think." Her roommate and sort of friend grabbed her chair and pulled it forward, taking a seat. "We can do something else if you don't like that idea." Anya couldn't get over how Mercedes was behaving. There were moments since Sammi arrived that she could see glimpses of a happier girl behind the make of sadness, but tonight it made her yearn to make the girl genuinely smile.

"Are you- are alright? You seem all, off." Her fingers pressed into the soft bedspread as she moved across it slowly, bunching the spread in front of her crossed legs. A quizzical expression danced on her feature as Anya attempted to read Mercedes' face. "If you don't feel comfortable talking about it, I can drop the subject." She wrinkled her brow as she stated that. The girl, who stood in front of her bed and honestly didn't appear to want to go into the issue, placed on hand into her pocket and Anya realized that she was seconds away from losing her completely. "Breadstix it is!" A topic change needed to happen and Anya really wanted to get to know her housemate. It would be a rather difficult thing to achieve if she made the girl uncomfortable, right?

Anya pushed the passenger door open to the car that belong to Mrs. Jones. She allowed the girls to borrow it for the evening, as long as Mercedes minded all the traffic signs, didn't use her phone while driving and promised to bring back a giant slice of chocolate cake. She and Mer walked side by side up to the restaurant, Anya filling her in on what happened at school the couple of days she went. They entered the building and it was packed. "This place is popular." Anya whispered. A group of people were crowded ahead of them and she didn't know if this was a common occurrence for this place. "Is it always like this? The food must be real, real good." It seemed like a homey enough type environment, the soft cream color on the walls and dark brown upholstery and tables did make it that you wanted to sit awhile and chat and it felt very unrushed as well. A hostess led the group ahead of them to the back of the restaurant, Mercedes indicated to somebody at the stand that it would be the two of them. To Anya's surprise, they were seated immediately.

As they made their way towards a corner booth, Anya noticed that there were some kids from school, dressed up for the school dance. When they seated Anya placed both her hands to the side of her face and pulled her hair back into a hair clip. It was rather warm in here and the both of them removed their coats, the snow from outside already melted and left scattered wet splotches on it. "Hey. Thanks for inviting me out. It's nice to actually see you away from the house. Actually. This is the first time I've seen you ever leave it." She chuckled, gliding the menu towards herself. "Do you think you'll return to school?" Anya questioned as she skimmed the various options on the menu.

"I agree, boo. I love my baby and she means the world to me, but, if I listen to her cry one more time I was ready to cry too. We don't need that." Mercedes confessed, gliding a short fingernail along the top of her unopened menu. "School is the last worry I have at the moment, even though my parents want me to return next week. I'm surprised you haven't heard the conversations, it's not like they are quiet about it."

Anya couldn't decide if she wanted to eat healthy or actually splurge tonight. She intended to try out for the cheerleading squad at the school and it had been nearly a month since she had last worked out. Her hand crept to her stomach, and she imagined that it felt huge and that she would look monstrous in a uniform if she didn't take charge of her eating right that moment. The menu slapped shut and she pushed it to the side. She hated whenever she beat herself over her appearance, due to the fact that she knew her physique was decent, but when it came to looking presentable in a cheerleading uniform you had to look perfect. Like a Barbie. Mercedes removed a breadstick from a small jar that sat against the wall of their booth, crunching into it. A breadstick wouldn't kill her diet and Anya allowed herself to have one, after all, the place's namesake probably rode on how good these golden sticks are. Anya leaned against the seat and bite into it, nodding with great approval at how buttery and rich it tasted. Damn. And she was to only allow herself one of these bad boys? Yeah. That wasn't going to happen. Her will power practically went out the window within a matter of minutes. There's always tomorrow.

"Well. To be 100% truthful. I tend to wear my headphones a lot whenever I hear things get all arguey between you guys. It makes me feel weird to listen in, like, I'm not supposed to." When she first moved in, her curiosity about the Jones family did get the best of her and caused the girl to listen in to intimate discussions, and in a sense it did help with reuniting Mer with her baby girl. But, it had been weeks and the fighting felt like a near daily occurrence. She'd rather listen in to her music and play around with her sticker collection than what new found thing Sheila had to complain about. "Is Sammi too young to be placed in day care? You're close to graduating and it would suck if you can't, you know? Also, I'll admit to this, but I want you there too." The corner of her eyes went up as she smiled at Mer. "It's selfish, I know. I get along great with Imogen, but I still feel so, so, soooo utterly lost here and it'd be nice to have you around to help me get to know the place and yeah." The girl realized how selfish this whole request seemed as Mer had a three month old to take care of back at home. It wasn't like she could turn off motherhood just to entertain the Canadian transfer student and the notion made her feel like shit. "Sorry. I don't know when she shut up. You should do what is best for you and your daughter." Anya looked down at the center of the table, the half eaten breadstick in her hand as her shoulders slumped forward.

The dark skinned girl in front of Anya laughed, causing her to return her gaze. "Do you think I want to be a part of those arguments? My mother would knock me on the side of the head if I attempted to listen to music while she lectured me." The waiter came by and the two of them placed their orders. Anya, upon great inner protest, ordered a grilled chicken salad with the dressing on the side and iced tea. Mercedes flipped open the menu for a brief moment and settled on the spaghetti and meatballs with a Coke. After he walked away, Mer gingerly removed another breadstick from the jar and broke it in half, eating it while she spoke. "Day care is expensive. One of the things I promised my parents when it was decided for Samantha to stay with us is that I'd be financially responsible for her. I've poured over job sites the past couple of days." She huffed and Anya felt horrible for how overwhelmed she looked. "There needs to be more hours in the day. Good lord."

"If you get a job, then who will look after Sammi? I can try to help out if you need it, Mer. It's not trouble at all. Seriously." Anya volunteered herself for the task, only to help alleviate the stress that obviously weighed down on her friend's shoulders. Besides, she rather enjoyed Sammi, even when she cried a majority of the time. During her quiet moments the little girl appeared to be an angel, as temporary as that was.

Mercedes finished one stick and tapped the other on the rolled up cloth napkin next to her. "That is what I asked them, honey. They will up front the money for day care while I get both work and school figured out. How am I to survive this? I'm only one person."

"Is this why you wanted to get out of the house tonight. To have a break?" Anya asked as the waiter returned with their drink order. She plucked the lemon slice from her glass and squeezed it into her iced tea, mixing it with a straw.

"Mmmhmm." Mer said while she sipped her drink from it's clear straw. "You offered to look after her before. That is something I can't put you through. You have a life and I'd hate to take that away from you. I will find a way to make this balance out. I don't want to lose my baby and if I don't follow all of the rules that my parents, my mother, have set in place, then that is what will happen."

"Mer. This is way too much stress for you. And what life do you speak of? I don't know anybody here. The one attempt I made to do something social, well." She lifted her hand away from her glass and fluttered it about. "Don't get me wrong. I love that you and I are spending time together. I do. It's just I don't think I will ever really get used to this city. Which is fine. I don't really need to be going out and doing stuff anyway." She watched the beads of condensation drop down the side of the glass and blot into the white napkin that it rested on. "I want to help. As much as I can."

Their food arrived and the two of them changed the subject to something lighter. They talked about movies that they have seen, and discovered they share a common love for one Leonardo DiCaprio. "Oh crap!" Anya exclaimed. "You and I need to have a girl's night and just watch all of his movies. Well, not all because that can go on for a while. But we are totally gonna watch Romeo & Juliet, Titanic and Catch Me If You Can. If you are up for more, just let me know. All his movies are saved on my external hard drive at the house." She didn't know what to expect out of her stay in Lima, so Anya readied herself with a ton of movies that took a couple of weeks to download and organize. The external HD sat in her closet, untouched.

"Oh lord. Calm down." Mer chuckled at her and Anya blushed. "A Leo marathon does sound fun. Maybe when things settle down?"

Anya, about to answer the question, jerked to the side when a plate suddenly appeared in front of her. Her salad was placed on the table and she let out a nervous laugh. "Thanks." She said to the waiter who showed up out of nowhere, as if he apparated out of thin air with her food. She waited until Mer had her food before digging in into her salad. The pasta looked beyond delicious and Anya wished she ordered the same thing. Oh well. It'll pay off whenever she made it onto the squad. That is what she had to repeat over and over in her mind as she bit into the cool, crisp lettuce. The salad itself tasted pretty good, the grilled chicken had a nice sweet tang to it that she suspected might be a little bit of pineapple juice. Anya picked up the side of dressing and sparingly poured it, mixing it into the greens while Mercedes speared a runaway meatball on her plate.

"I guess I should let you in on a little secret about me. I have a tendency to get overly excited about things that I like." She spoke before adding food into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Oh, and when I get real nervous. I talk super fast." She washed her food down with the ice tea, tasting the tartness of the lemon. "This is nice. The two of us should do stuff together again. It's like we live in the same house, but I never see you this-" what word could possibly describe how she felt her new friend behaved. It wasn't that she planned to insult her, not by a long shot. But, when it came to descriptions, she wanted to make sure it'd come out genuine. Anya decided to be broad instead. "relaxed. I suppose it's hard to do with your mom constantly breathing down your neck. She must really love you a helluva lot act that way with you." She said this part, not certain she truly believed her. Her parents didn't believe in helicopter parenting, which she was grateful for. For the most part she turned out pretty decent, except for what happened last year. Anya would never blame her parents for something that she had complete control over. That action solely weighed on her shoulders.

Mercedes finished her plate, placing her fork down in the center of it. The napkin that layed across her lap lifted up and she dabbed away at the orange spaghetti sauce from the corner of her lips. "Noted, Anya. You didn't have to tell me. I've figured that out on my own. You're actually very expressive."

Shock filled her as she heard the girl in the booth opposite reveal that she has in fact been paying attention to her behaviour. "Really?" She smiled, her eyes looked into Mer's soft brown ones and she looked down at the half eaten salad in front of her, a twinge of embarrassment hitting her. "Is-is that a good thing ?" She asked. Expressiveness didn't seem like something that would be frowned upon, but she thought that during her brief time here she maintained a rather quiet demeanor, at least until she met Imogen. Perhaps there was happiness that seeped through in her actions without her acknowledgement.

"Don't work yourself up over it, honey. You just do these things whenever certain things happen." A random waiter stopped by their table and refilled their glasses. Mercedes' eyes looked Anya over while she sipped her soda. Mercedes took advantage of the new waiter's presence and ordered a chocolate cake to go. When he left, she picked right back up where they left off. "Does it bother you that I've made that observation? We don't have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable." The girl picked up her drink and played with her straw before sipping on it.

Anya sighed. She was behaving rather immaturely and knew it. "No. It's just. I don't like to really be looked at . Observed. It makes me think people are trying to get inside my head and it weirds me out. That's all. I suppose those if I do silly things, then you are bound to notice. We do live together." She could say the same thing about how she couldn't help notice how Mer tugged on her sweater sleeve whenever she felt out of place or nervous. Or, how, whenever her mother arrived home from work, she would practically clam up and retreat to her room. This entire conversation happened to have been the longest, uninterrupted one that the girls have shared and it could only be achieved by leaving the house. Yet, Anya was not to bring any of this up, just to turn the tables on Mer. Her noticing her random eccentricities didn't compare to the deeper issues that might reside in the usually quiet girl.

Their waiter returned with a To Go box, which Anya didn't ask for and she took it regardless since she didn't like to waste food, the bill and a bag that contained Sheila's dessert request. Her hand, halfway to her purse, stopped when Mer dropped cash into the opened bill holder. As if she read her mind, Mercedes spoke with a sheepish grin on her face. "Believe it or not. My mom can have a sweet side. She wanted to treat us to dinner." Mer gathered her coat and purse, ready to stand. "Time to head back. That woman takes her chocolate fixes seriously." she said through a serious tone while she slid her arms into the coat. Anya followed her lead and did the same, making sure not to accidentally hit anybody on the back of the head with her long arms.

They drove back with extreme caution. A rather heavy snow storm coated their car with an ever growing flurry of snow and it became hard to see straight ahead of them. This happened to be the norm back home and Anya knew to let the driver, which happened to be Mercedes, to have complete concentration. Anya looked out the passenger window, the reflection from the various street signs that they passed intriguing her for not real reason. She remembered that Imogen mentioned that she and Blaine would be in the park tonight and she hoped that they had made it to a warm place and out of this nasty storm. The last thing anybody needed to be was stuck out in this. It was as if somebody had opened the top of one of those miniature snow globes, added way too many of those little white glittery specks and shaken it all haphazardly. Even she worried if they would make it back before hitting a spot where the snow happened to be piled up too high. Their house loomed ahead like a welcoming beacon and Anya unclenched her hand from the side of the door handle. The ghost of the indentation from her squeezing the handle made it's presence known as she attempted to rub it out.

Both of them ran up to the door and thanked God for the protective awning above their heads. "What happened? I don't remember any mention of this today. Your dad is always on top of the weather." She remarked as she turned her back to Mer and watched at least half of inch of snow accumulate in the flowerbeds that happened to be a few feet away from her. Puffs of steam came out from her nose as the temperature dropped. Thankfully she had her scarf and coat tight around her body or she'd worry about falling ill again.

There were few things that Anya rather enjoyed in life. The first few waking moments after a real pleasant dream, the sound of her mother's laughter whenever her dad happened to say something rather humorous, even the smells of the first few days of spring when flowers started to bloom. But tonight. The warmth from the oh so wonderful heater inside the Jones' home skyrocketed to the top of her most favorite things list. They closed the door behind them, severing the bleak, snowy mess and exhaled. Anya couldn't feel her nose or ears and knew it was going to hurt like hell when they thawed out.

Whenever they entered the home, they were instructed to remove their shoes and coats before moving beyond the entry way, and Anya knew that Mer was just as cold as she was, because neither of them moved from their spot. Mercedes still had the Breadstix bag in her hand as they tried to warm up. "I think Snowpocalypse is upon us, Mer. Let's just hope we have enough food to last before we resort to cannibalism." Anya chattered out, trying to smile instead appearing like she had a set of those fake chattering teeth inside her mouth.

"You're right about that. Sammi is off the menu." Mer joked back, the rosy tint in her cheeks returning as they heater worked it's magic on them. It must have taken a good five minutes before they were both free from their scarves, coats and boots before they went their separate ways in the home.

Anya pulled out her thickest blue sweater, which happened to belong to her dad. It had the Toronto Maple Leafs white logo on it and, before slipping it over her head, she brought it to her face and breathed it in. She intentionally didn't wash it after he last wore it and she could smell traces of his cologne. Her face, completely buried in the soft material, felt hot as she sensed a wave of homesickness come upon her. She brought the sweater out and held it up to admire it before bringing it down over her head, covering up the white tank top she had thrown on after her quick evening shower. She shimmied on a pair of gray sweatpants and pink toe socks and declared it bedtime.

She flicked the lamp next to her bed off and settled underneath the blankets, feeling safe and comfortably warm. The blinds weren't fully closed and she could make out that the storm had not let up at all during her shower and the rest of her night time ritual. She turned on her side, both her hands under her pillow, preparing herself for sleep as she went over what she did that day when she noticed the blinking text indicator on her phone. She didn't feel it vibrate or beep at all tonight and wondered who tried to get a hold of her. Her hand reached over and slid the phone off the nightstand, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, she thought the phone was to fall onto the ground. There was no way she planned on picking it up after she had basically cocooned herself in the blankets. She pressed the Home button on her phone and the screen illuminated across her face. The brightness practically blinded her and she had to squint to find the Text Message application. Her pointer finger tapped on it, her nail clinking against the glass surface of the screen. Imogen's name appeared in there, above an already read text message from her mother from earlier this afternoon. Her finger tapped on her friend's name and saw that she practically spammed her inbox with messages during the last three hours. They stopped about half an hour ago and Anya wondered what in the world that girl was doing up at 2:30 in the morning.

12:14am Imogen Moreno: "Anyaaaaaa. The park is so fun and there is snow everywhere!"

12:38am Imogen Moreno: "Did you know that Blaine likes Harry Pottter? I LOVE Haarry Potter tooo. Isn't that amzing?"

12:43am Imogen Moreno: "Andd he said we that what did he sayy?/"

1:15am Imogen Moreno: "Supr bowlz lame. That's y its god to go to anti superbwl partiz. You save moneys"

Anya put the phone down, her eyes hurting from trying to read these messages. There was no question about it, Imogen had a bit, no a lot to drink that night. She rubbed her tired eyes, unsure if she should continue on or just put it off until the morning. But, like a bad train wreck, her mind wanted to see more. She picked the phone back up and continued to read the messages.

1:50am Imogen Moreno: "u know whyat juss happn right noww/ I can give yo 1 hint and its me not bein a vrgin nemoree! Hahaha.

She reread that last one a couple of times and pieced together that Imogen just had sex, and apparently for the first time. "Oh. This isn't going to be good." Anya murmured under her breathe. Her friend, just by how horrible the misspellings were, more than likely was to regret whatever she did tonight. Guess she can relate as her first time was one she wished she could take back. Losing your virginity in the back of a limo just to make your then boyfriend's arranged wife to be jealous wasn't exactly romantic. Not in the least.

There were a couple more messages and trying to dicipher them made Anya want to contact Tom Hanks from The Davinci Code to help her out. Why did she keep sending her these texts when she could barely spell anything?

2:01am Imogen Moreno: "Blayneeeisgontke ovr an wear 2cthangs thse hahah u knw rigt & swordz bcz wizzdsareawesm"

2:04am Imogen Moreno: "I l"

That was it. There were no more messages and Anya contemplated on texting her back, just to make sure she happened to still be alive, or coherent enough to explain what the fuck she just read.

2: 40am Anya M: "Imogen?"

As she waited for a reply that she wasn't certain was to come tonight, Anya pulled up her horoscope for the day.

_**January 29, 2012**_

_**If you're still using the old shovel and rake out in the fields, now is the time to upgrade, Taurus. Get that big piece of machinery that will plow all the acres in no time. In a nutshell, think about ways in which you can be more efficient. Feel free to invest in those things that will help make your life easier and more comfortable. Most likely, the natural flow of the day will take you to exactly where you need to go. **_

The only thing she took away from that was that she might be shoveling snow in the morning. She sneered at the lame horoscope and felt ready to fall asleep when her phone vibrated in her hand. Part of a message from Imogen filled up the horoscope screen and Anya pressed the view button to bring it up.

2:52am Imogen Moreno: "Good morning, starshine!"

2:52am Anya M: "Uhh. Good morning to you too. Are you home?"

2:54am Imogen Moreno: "Nope. We are at IHOP. I just ordered the kids pancakes. Do you think they will give me a smiley face one?"

2:55am Anya M: "That I don't know. Good to see you make sense again. Lol"

2:56am Imogen Moreno: "What?"

2:56am Anya M: "Do you not remember drunk texting me tonight?"

2:59am Imogen Moreno: "Noooooooo I don't. Yay! My pancakes are smiling! Get ready for a picture!"

3:00am Imogen Moreno: -insert picture message of a very tired Imogen holding up a plate of pancakes that actually had a cute face made on it with whipped cream and cherries-

3:01am Anya M: " That's precious, sweetie. I'm glad to see that you are ok. Good to see you guys didn't get stuck in that storm."

3:05am: Imogen Moreno: "We almost did but Blaine is a wizard and magically transported us to IHOP. Everything worked out in the end."

3:06am: Anya M: "Well. I hope his wizarding skills get you guys home in one piece. Time for sleep. Good night to you both. 3"

Her finger pressed the top button and the screen went black. Anya's hand, that still held the phone, fell over onto the pillow next to her head and she just let it slide out of her grasp. It had been a very long, long week and the soothing sensation of oncoming sleep ebbed in and out of her mind until it finally overcame her completely and she drifted away into a sea of dreams.


	9. Snowy Days

Winter in Lima proved to be quite temperamental, as if it was a raging child one day with it's overpowering snow storms that left the town in such a state where everything shut down; to picturesque snowy days when the downpour of flurries ceased and the whole community left the warm caves that they called their homes to socialize and stock up on supplies, in preparation for the next storm. The Jones family weren't any different. Sheila practically stationed herself at the hospital due to the busy nature that followed whenever people didn't practice common sense and do stupid things to keep warm, travel when visibility was close to nil or attempt to snow ski when they lived in a place that didn't have steep enough hills for it. There were just a handful of stories that they got to hear whenever Sheila wasn't snowed in at the hospital to return.

The girls managed to attend school during the calm days, everybody bundled up in thick coats, hats, ear muffs and scarves, their boots crunching into the thick icy snowy sheet that covered every inch of ground that wasn't a sidewalk, driveway or roadway. The local news station betrayed them on various days when they announced that schools were indeed open.

Marcus, who happened to not want to be out in the snow either, begrudgingly layered himself in warm clothing and marched the girls out of the warm home. "The sooner we get you ladies to school, the sooner I can get to my DVR." He said, punctuating this statement with a slight push on his daughter's shoulder. "Mother nature cannot get in the way of your education." The man closed and secured the door while Anya and Mercedes stood by the car whining like a couple of stranded puppies who were left out in the rain. Either Marcus felt the need to play a cruel joke on them by keeping the two waiting outside of the locked car or he simply forgotten to unlock it for them. He turned and the familiar noise from inside could be heard and the two of them piled into the car, which wasn't any warmer than outside, but it provided refuge from the snow.

Minutes into the drive, everybody buckled in and the heater on full blast, Marcus tuned into the local AM station to hear the weather report, Mercedes fiddling with the vent on the passenger side of the car and Anya, whose nose hurt from the blistering cold, had her mittened hand up to try to warm it up. Her blue eyes, which were normally a shade of sapphire, appeared frosty under this weather conditions as she looked out the car window. Numerous homes had snow men, forts and the occasion snow angel decorated in the front lawns. It had been years since she had been around this much snow and it brought back a memory from her childhood of a snowstorm that left the MacPherson family without power for a couple of days. The girl must have been about six or seven at the time and her parents happened to be ill prepared for what had fallen upon them. They spent the entire time in front of the wood burning fireplace, her father had at least saved up enough seasoned wood over the years to keep that little spot in their home warm. Their family made the best of the situation and pretended they were on a camping trip, her father creating these elaborate stories about princesses, dragon, evil witches, backstabbing wizards while her mother prepared meals with the aid of the fire. They lived off of hotdogs and heated soup but the memory happened to be one that brought a soft smile to the girl's winter blown face and she rubbed her nose slowly as she daydreamed it.

The car stopped and Marcus cursed under his breath. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." This happened to be something that the girl in the backseat never heard the man do and she leaned over to her side to take a look at what caused him to mutter such words. Even Mercedes gave him a look like he was out of his mind, glancing over at Anya to see if she heard him speak. She didn't pay any mind to this and unbuckled her seatbelt to try to semi stand in the car. She placed her hand on the soft ceiling and looked over as much as she could though there nothing visible laid ahead. Was she that lost in her memory that she didn't hear the car break down? Stall out? The side of tires against slick, icy roadway caused her to sit down as the vehicle lurched forward after persistent presses of the gas pedal.

"Sorry about that girls. The last thing either of us wants is to get out and push the car." The man spoke after his mood softened and they neared the school. There weren't that many cars in the drop off area and the whole notion of them even showing up seemed downright ridiculous. They pulled to the front of the curb and Marcus turned to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Here's hoping you don't get snowed into the school." He said with a chuckle as he tapped Anya's knee while she scooted out the car.

"Bye Mr. Jones." She said to him, closing the door and instantly crossing her arms over her body as she trekked through the chilling winds that came off the roof of the school. Mercedes, close to her, did the same thing and they both hurriedly entered the front entrance and turned to face each other.

"My dad has lost his damned mind." Mer grumbled as she started the walk down the hallway, removing the black wool knit hat she worn that morning. Anya followed as they made their way down the obviously empty hallway. The bottom of their wet shoes squeaked as they made their way to Mercedes' locker. "I'm sorry about this, baby girl. I know my family can be difficult."

Anya shouldered her slipping backpack before it fell down to the crook of her arm. "You say this like I haven't been living with you all this time, Mer." The girl said with a laugh that bounced off the walls of the hallway. "At least your mom wasn't yelling at us to get out of the house." Normally in the mornings there happened to be a tendency for them to be running late to school. Either because Marcus required a second cup of coffee to wake himself up or one of them, mainly Anya, couldn't figure out what to wear to school that day.

"Preach." Mer said with a quick head shake, a visible smile crept up the corner of her lips and Anya grinned back. She felt something trickle down the side of her face and wiped it away. The snow that had settled into her hair, melted while they spoke.

Anya randomly tapped the locker next to Mercedes with her knuckles and said with a sigh, "Guess I better go do the same. We'll see each other at lunch, ok?" They agreed to it and she turned towards the opposite direction and went all the way down to the end of the hallway, turning to go into the direction of her own locker. She hated how far it was from her housemate's and Imogen's. It was if the school didn't want her near the only two people she knew in this school. Anya knew that this type of thinking was pure nonsense. It's not like Figgen's could see into the future or anything. Actually, he should have placed her near Mercedes at least because he knew they were to live together. She mulled over this as she passed a couple of kids that were digging through their backpacks and cluttered lockers, indicating that Mr. Jones happened to not be alone in the insane parent category when it came to sending kids off to school on such a gross day.

She swing her backpack around and dropped it at her feet as she mindlessly turned the dial on her combination lock. This whole locker process became second nature to her and she learned to sort of zen out while she readied for her first class. Anya removed her jacket and scarf, hanging them up onto the inside hook of the locker, which required her to get on her tipy toes. She hated how short she felt at times and wished that it'd be Spring already so she could wear heels and not worry about slipping and sliding in the hallways with them. The girl started to sing Shake it Out by Florence + the Machine, a song that she happened to relate to considering how she felt during the last few months.

After her reach to secure her personal belongings inside the barren locker, her pink backpack fell back and hit her shins, the books inside pressing hard against the bone. She winced and relaxed back onto her heels. Might as well empty this thing out, she thought as she softly sang the lyrics, squatting down and unzipping her bag.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

Typically, when it came to her singing voice, Anya wouldn't be so open about it. In her mind she couldn't carry a tune, but it didn't stop her from singing when she thought she was alone. And, with the school as empty as it was, she didn't feel that she had to keep all that quiet, and actually kind of liked how her voice sounded in the echoey hallway. She slowly got up, moving her body to the inner beat of the song, stepping one foot forward to shove some of her books inside the locker, along with hanging up her now empty backpack.

I'm always dragging that horse around

And our love is pastured such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground

So I like to keep my issues drawn

But it's always darkest before the dawn

Just like every other time she listened to this song, she couldn't help but smile to it and feel that there was an inside hope that actually wanted to see the light of day, not be buried under the blankets of self doubt that tried to smother it constantly. Her fingers drummed on the spins of the books as she tilted her head to the side to read them, ready to pull out the necessary one for her next class. She hummed the chorus of the song, bopping her head side to side, removing the book and semi dancing with it.

"Well hey there." came a deep voice out of nowhere and Anya shut her mouth, dropping her book onto her toe. She put a hand on the inside of her locker to prop herself up as she brought her foot up to rub it through the material of her shoe. As she readied herself to bitch at the person that scared the Hell out of her, her face turned and saw who it was, causing her voice to get stuck in her throat. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt?" He asked, his green eyes looked into her pained blue ones as she continued to rub her foot.

She gave him a smile, a nervous one at that, but a smile none the less while she lowered her foot. "No. No. I'm fine. You just…you startled me, that's all." She bent forward, aware that her face felt extremely hot, as if she had been standing in front of a furnace and counted up to three desperate for that brief interval to be enough to get rid of the blush. Her fingers wrapped around the fallen book; also retrieving her binder that she had nearly forgotten about, and she willed herself to look up at the blonde boy that she had noticed a few weeks back. His posture, as casual as ever, relaxed against the lockers and he had is arms crossed. He wore a black coat today and she could see that he had just arrived because it still had wet spots from the snowfall outside. "Do you usually make it a habit to scare people when they least expect it?" She asked him, closing her locker and turning the dial so she could do the one turn later on before lunch.

"It happens to be one of my specialties." He replied, a rather charming grin spread across his lips and Anya couldn't help but notice how full they were. "I happen to be a part of the McKinley Welcome Committee," the boy started to say as she layered her book and binder before pressing it to her chest. "I dropped the ball on the introductions when I first noticed you here." She didn't know why, but that last part made her heart skip a beat. So, he did notice her before. Why did it take him so long to say something to her? Why did he chose to do something about it when nobody was at school? Maybe there was something going on in school where nobody wanted to talk to her in public and that was why she had been alone this whole time? There goes her low self esteem, creating outrageous stories instead of enjoying the fact that the boy that made her stop in her tracks before was actually here, speaking to her. "The name is Sammy Evans. And yours?" He extended his hand out to hers and she looked down at it while they walked side by side. She looked up at him, her eyebrow up slightly. It was rare to come across somebody that shook hands, at least people their age and she shrugged, taking his into her mittened hand. She had completely spaced out at the locker and forgotten to remove them. Oops.

"I'm Anya MacPherson. I transferred here from Toronto." Traces from where the edge of the book had hit her toe stinged a little as they walked. The History book that they'd been assigned to this semester wasn't exactly a light read and she felt each of the books weight with the pressure from her steps. "So. Um. I guess you got stuck with coming to school too? There's not that many people here." Her hand, the one away from him, went up to her bangs and she moved them out of her eyes, tucking the loose strands behind her left ear.

Sam, who walked close enough for her to feel the material of his coat brush against her elbow, answered her with a rather upbeat voice. "Yeah. You can say that. It was either here or deal with chores and cranky lil' uns back at the house. School didn't seem a half bad option. Besides. It gave me the chance to meet the mysterious Anya MacPherson."  
Was this guy for real? She couldn't tell and by the way he laughed, she assumed he was poking fun at her. "Little ones? Do you have kids or something?" This type of question would have seemed out of place for her to ask, but back home it wasn't all that unusual for teens to have kids already. She really hoped that he wasn't a dad, because then it would make her crush on him even more awkward.

"No, bozo. Stevie and Stacy are my younger siblings. They can be a handful considerin' how all they want is play in the snow and my mom won't let them." They neared her classroom and she stopped in front of the door, not wanting this little moment that they had together to end just yet. He looked past her shoulder and she followed his gaze, it was pretty empty, only a few students were there but the teacher had already started the lesson. "Now that I have seen you to class, unharmed, I better let ya go."

She looked back at him and gave him a tiny smile, it lit up her face and she felt that the blush that had made itself at home finally started to ebb away. "Nearly unharmed. You practically did drop a book on my toe…well. In an indirect way." She couldn't help but bring that up, especially now that a few minutes have passed, it did come across as humorous. He stepped away, backwards a few paces as he tried not to chuckle at her, and turned to head down the hallway to whatever class he had right now.

Anya lingered right outside the doorway, her book and binder pressed firmly against her chest and she bite her bottom lip as she widely smiled while she watched him walk away. He had actually talked to her today, and to think she didn't want to come to school because of the shitty weather. Their conversation, as brief as it was, still made her want to do a little happy dance, and she would of if the teacher didn't call her attention to join the class. With a little hop, she spun on her heels, them making a little noise as they did so, and she giddily walked into the room.


	10. What's Going On?

The strangest thing occurred after that day, the dreariness of the weather seemed to have vanished and the sun, which had been on the cusp of rearing itself for the past week finally did so. Warm rays cascaded off of the blanket of snow that covered the town and by the end of the week, the horrible weather that shook Lima became a distant memory.

Anya, whenever something happy or unexpected occurred in her life; usually pertaining to a boy, reverts and loses herself in thought without realizing it. It was Friday afternoon, and she currently wasn't paying attention to Mr. Gray, her English teacher. They were assigned a book the class before and they had been told to read the first three chapters to discuss. The girl had her head down, casually drawing out zig zags and swirly symbols with the random childlike heart shapes, unaware that her teacher stood behind lost in observation.

"I see we have an artist in our classroom." her teacher said, his tone humorous and annoyed at the same time.

Anya, as if her pencil became a red hot poker or a wild, poisonous snake, dropped out of her loose grasp and it rolled into the center of her opened notebook. Eyes looked straight again and pretended that he didn't just single her out in the classroom as her hand nervously tugged on the edge of her book, bending the corner of the paperback to the beat of her racing heart.

"You can relax, Miss MacPherson. I will not do the typical thing and show your peers whatever it was you were doodling. Try to pay attention to the discussion, ok?" He advanced past her desk and she felt a few eyes on her as she sunk a bit in her chair not really certain why she felt such embarrassment over something as trivial as this.

Mr. Gray, a copy of their assigned book rolled up in his hands, worked his way to the front of the classroom. "Are there any thoughts about the main character? Humbert Humbert. What a name, huh?" He asked the class with a chuckle. "Opinions?" The class sat in silence as he tapped the book a couple of times in his open palm. "Gripings?" He practically fished for any sort of response from the room full of students who made themselves seem busy with taking notes from the book or the occasional note passing.

Anya, who finally straightened back up in her chair opened the paperback book with the now bent edges as if she were trying to bookmark the entire novel with the amount of pressure she used on it before, and looked at a few places she had highlighted in pink the night prior. The entire concept from what she managed to pick up from the story made her feel a little uneasy and she didn't quite understand how this could be assigned reading. It made her question her teacher's taste in reading material and she didn't know if it was cool of him to pick such a story that most parents would be against if they realized what they were assigned to review.

Mr. Gray, a rather rugged looking man that seemed like he must have been no more than five years out of college, sat on the corner of his desk and shook his head. This action brought the hair that he had gelled back earlier in the day, to fall forward and a curl draped over his right eyebrow as he tried to excite his students about the reading assignment. If he wasn't a teacher, Anya would actually find the man rather attractive. Actually, it wasn't that he was a teacher that kept her from being able to take in his good looking features, there was something off about him. It seemed laughable and if she were to attempt to explain that to anybody, they'd say she was nuts because he came across as a nice teacher, always ready to assist whenever needed. But. There was something that, deep inside, not feel like she could truly feel comfortable with him.

"I know. This is a pretty heavy reading and there will be a lot that might go over year head. I am available to help explain any parts of it that you all don't understand. Now. At least one of you must have a question. Or did any of you read the chapters?"

Crickets again and he thumped the book on his knee, his easy going smile never leaving his thin lips. "How about you?" He pointed at a random person in the front of the classroom. "What do you think about Humbert Humbert?"

The teacher picked on one of the hockey players who was speaking to a girl behind him in hushed whispers. The muscular boy with the broad shoulders and rather hideous haircut that some would call a mullet, came across as annoyed while the teacher looked on with a patient smirk. The jock shrugged and muttered, "The guy is a creep."

"Why do you say that? What does he do to give you that impression?" The tap, tap, tap of the book against his knee served as a tempo and the classroom watched the hockey guy think, the thought process actually working out on his face as if they could see the gears do their magic in his mind.

"He says he is a murder or whatever at the beginning of the story. After that he kept talking about things. About his family and some chick he banged. I didn't finish reading because this story is boring as hell." There was a chorus of agreement and nods, Anya included. She fallen asleep a few times while reading this and not even certain if she fully understood what any of it meant.

Most teachers would have responded with a negative reply or assigned an outrageous amount of work, but not Mr. Gray. He let it slide off his shoulders and reviewed the class that seemed to agree with the student.

"Do you all agree with Mr. Nelson? You think the story is boring?" He waited for anybody else to speak up, which they were suddenly bashful. "This is a classic. Dare I say a masterpiece. How about we turn to the next chapter and go over it together." The desk creaked under his weight as he leaned forward. "This is where our main character actually tries to understand where he is comes from and why he developed such an attraction to our Lolita. We will also read more about Annabel and how he handled her abrupt death from typhus."

The classroom opened their books and the ruffling of pages and students shifting in their seats overpowered the previous stillness in the room. Mr. Gray resumed his standing position in front of the classroom. "I'm amazed that you find this story to be such a bore. Even if the writing of his love scenes with Annabel were far from graphic, it was as clear as the nose on your faces that they had intense chemistry. The type that many TV shows and movies try to convey and I know that a good portion of you desire."

During the rest of the class, their English teacher picked students at random to read the text out loud and would stop to explain any parts that felt needed further thought on, which turned out to be most of the class time and they managed to make it halfway through the short chapter before the bell rang. "Good class today, guys. Go ahead and read Chapters five and six for next class. Remember you can E-mail me or come by after school to talk or ask questions. My door is always open."

The headache from reading made Anya's vision double and she couldn't wait to get home to lie down. Reading for extended periods of time did that to her, even after all of the sessions that her parents paid for to help with her dreaded dyslexia. With her lack of sleep and inability to really focus on anything made a bad combination for her. Her therapist back home said that she should always take the time to read things out loud and to sound them out, but with what she was able to read last night in the story that Mr. Gray assigned, there is no way she would feel comfortable speaking the insane ramblings of Humbert Humbert for the Jones to hear.

She shuffled her pink sneaker covered feet out the emptying classroom and headed to her last class of the day when she spotted Imogen looking her way as she spoke to somebody she didn't recognize. Things didn't seem right upon first glance and Anya's impression that there was a serious discussion in play and it might be best not to approach it made her falter in moving forward. They stood next to a row of lockers, people walking past them and casually taking interest in their heatedly murmured discussion. Imogen, sadness written all over her features walked around to either hide her face from Anya or to block out the boy who happened to be speaking to her with a flair of annoyance.

The clean cut boy, with a short brown haircut, it slightly spiked in random angles tilted his head to the side and she watched his brows come together in a concentrated sneer. He wore a gray wool jacket, the buttons tightly buttoned up his slender frame and a brilliantly red scarf casually wrapped around his neck, part of it loosened as he spoke to her friend.

She only could see the back of Imo, her head bent forward and the pigtails she wore that day drooped down as if it taken on the current state she was in. The tension crackled between the pair just by the way she rubbed her forearms, the thin material of her black sweater bunching up, and stared at the ground while the boy delivered an icy glare at the top of her head. His cheeks tinged pink with what? Anger? Frustration? Embarrassment? Those were the only things that Anya could think that would cause that sort of shade on somebody's face especially with a skin tone as fair as his.

There was no getting around the conversation as the direction of the gym, her final class, lead past the pair. Anya speedily walked down the hallway, her shoes squeaking against the waxed floor as she tried her damndest to move over as far away to not make it appear as if she was eavesdropping.

A group of kids decided that it would be a wonderful idea to congregate along the wall across from the boy and Imogen and they didn't appear to be in any rush, even with the impending bell minutes away from ringing. There wasn't time for this and had to get into the locker room before that infernal bell were to go off or she'd be considered late. Her tummy clenched with vexation and worry when she forcibly took the route in the middle of the hallway.

She must have been about three steps away from the two people she had tried to avoid all of this time when her ears picked up a rather hurtful sentence that was cooly delivered to Imogen, who hadn't picked her gaze up from the floor and appeared to be staring down at her black Converse shoes with the zebra print design that she had filled in with colorful markers.

"You seemed like the type of person that would not hurt somebody. It appears that I thought wrong." Anya, close enough to pick up the cold as ice words that brought a horrid chill down her spine even when they weren't intended for her, slowed the walk as she now didn't know what to do. This person that she didn't know just insulted her friend. Imogen, from the brief time that she has known her, did not come across as somebody that would hurt another person. Like. At all. That happened to be insane talk and her compulsion to stick her nose in business that wasn't hers caused her body to tremble. Fingers tightened around the binder and book that she held in her right hand, it bouncing with uneasiness against her thigh as she contemplated on whether or not to step in or let it be.

The decision came swiftly as the stranger only stood a few seconds longer, his posture as stiff as a board, his glance unwavering as he adjusted the strap of the gray leather bag he carried. He didn't even wait for her to look at him a final time before he spun around and left her without a second glance.

Imogen, who hugged her binder suffocatingly close to her chest, looked up after he left and Anya gingerly stepped over to her, ducking her face downwards to greet her softly. "Hey..."

Her friend's eyes gleamed with tears, that had yet to fall, behind her black rimmed glasses that were halfway down her nose; close enough to slip off if she were to make any sudden movements. With a shaky hand she pushed it up her nose and tried to give a reassuring smile that didn't convince Anya that she was alright. "Hi Anya." her voice filled with a false cheeriness to it

"What? Who was that?" She asked, looking over her shoulder to see if the boy was gone.

"Can we pretend that didn't happen?" The same cheeriness drifted to her face, a faltering smile pulled the edges of her lips up, and Anya didn't know how or what to say and she attempted to do just that. But, she really wanted to know why that guy talked to her in that way or at least learn a name.

"Are you sure? I mean. I can respect you don't want to talk about it and everything. It's just. That was. Wow." She dragged out the 'ow' slowly breathing it out as she didn't now how else to react.

Imogen's features didn't change and she squinted her eyes a little. "I'm sure." Her foot stepped forward, then it went back. "You know what. I think I need to go over there." Imogen pointed at an imaginary point behind her, not even looking back. "We will speak later, Anya MacPherson."

"Oh. Ok. I need to get to Gym anyway. Coach Beiste will more than likely chew my butt out for being late anyway."

Anya felt like she fucked up in some way because she just had to press for Imogen to talk, even after she told her to pretend nothing had taken place. One of her hands touched the cool locker next to her as she watched Imogen walk away and towards the girl's washroom. Her palm turned into a fist and she lightly knocked on the hallow door, scolding herself. "Way to go, you nosey idiot. Why do you do things like that?" The bell rang, bringing her to the present and she jumped. "Shit." her voice low and panicked. "Looks like I'm running laps today."

While she power walked to the gym, Anya tried to figure out what in the world took place in front of her with Imogen and that sharply dressed guy. Also, even though he was a complete mystery to her and she positively had zero idea what his name could be, she couldn't help but feel a pull at her memory bank as if she should know him.

But where?

She mulled it over as she pushed the swinging door open to the girl's locker room but wasn't given much of a chance to continue with her inner search because the coach was in the middle of the front of the room talking to the girls in her class and she gave the tardy girl a stern look. "You know the drill. After you get dressed run three laps around the track. Tardiness is not acceptable in my gym." Her big frame towered over her and she didn't argue. Nobody ever argued with the coach. She was built like a tower and had the capability to bark at you like a rabid dog. There were rumours that she was a total softy inside, but Anya had not seen this and didn't feel like testing it out, especially when she already had three laps looming over her head.

"Yes, Coach." With that she spent the first part of her gym period running in the cold and cursing her curious nature for possibly angering Imogen and now making her current state miserable as the front of her face numbed out from the cold, the chill entering her lungs and stitching her side while the Coach watched from the inside of the gym window.


	11. Too Much Thinking

The weekend, long and boring, gave the Canadian girl time to catch up with sleep, her school work and even a few Skype sessions with her parents. They were unusually upbeat and by the way they were behaving, you'd think they had renewed their vows or something.

Maybe with her time away from home it gave her parents a chance to rejuvenate and be like they were before she came along. They were never really all that affectionate when she lived there, but during their conversations she had to minimize her screen to stop from seeing them kissing each others cheeks and hugging. When she ended her last video chat with them, a disturbing image that they were planning on having sex right there in the living room instantly acted out in her mind Ugh. That was a visual she could have gone her entire life without ever seeing. Ever, ever, ever.

While she spoke to her parents before they presumably sexed up, or more like listened to them talk about what they had been up to, Anya constantly checked her Tumblr inbox and phone to see if Imogen sent any form of communication her way. Nothing. Could she possibly be upset with her because of what took place at school on Friday? It felt rather unlikely, she didn't do anything wrong unless being concerned is considered such a horrible thing. It wasn't like she walked up during the last of the conversation, the part where the guy told Imo that he thought wrong of her, and defend her with whatever happened to be on her mind at the time. Which, could have played out in two ways. One where she came out sounding like a total savior, with the right words and delivery, pushing the boy away with her words alone. Or the other would have been she just mumbled something unintelligible and stood there making the situation so awkward that the boy would have felt no other choice but to leave.

Just thinking about the latter brought out the giggles because she could actually see it happen. Oh well. What's done is done and maybe it is best that it had taken place the way it did. Anya moved here to start fresh and no where in her loosely thought out plans was for her to be a budding Holly J, who, no matter what had an opinion or desire to butt in on whatever. That just wasn't this girl's style. But, that didn't mean that if somebody actually did go off and verbally or physically hurt a friend or even a stranger, she wouldn't just stand by and twiddle or thumbs and pretend that nothing's happening. So, if that guy with the cool gaze had gone further with what he told his friend, she would have stepped in and told him to back off.

Yup. She would have done just that.

Due to everybody in the house being wrapped up in their own activities, Mr. and Mrs Jones with work and Mercedes with Samantha, that Anya spent a good portion of her weekend holed up in her room watching one romantic movie after the other. She'd always been a sucker for these sorts of films, but when she started to play titles at random, all of the choices were sappy love stories and she felt that maybe she should venture out of her box a little and try another genre. That would be for another day, for all she wanted was to get the lovey dovey feeling that always hugged her brain whenever she watched these movies. At the end of Sweet Home Alabama, which tended to make her fuzzy, warm and hopeful inside delivered the opposite and she felt rather lonely.

It had been closing in on two and a half months since the last time she and Owen talked and yeah, she had this massive crush on Sam, but nothing would come from that since when they talked she hadn't seen him around school or anything. And even when she repeated the brief moment that they did speak, there was simply no way to tell if was flirting wit her or just an upbeat guy. Why hadn't she seen him again? Was it possible that he was avoiding her? But why? There she goes again with the thoughts that something she did must have pushed somebody away. These really needed to stop before she actually does succeed in doing just that.

The music from the credits played through the speakers on her laptop and she rolled over and buried her face inside her soft pillow, just wanting to drown out the loneliness and convince herself that she can have fun on her own. It was hard to breathe with her face pressed down against it, but no drowning out of emotions took place and she grumbled out a random stream of sounds that held no meaning, only matching emotion to her low self worth.

When was the last time she allowed herself to think about Owen? It must have been at least a couple of weeks. She had been so caught up with school, the snowstorm, helping with Samantha and the constant hustle and bustle in the house that frankly, she didn't have a moment to herself. Then, late at night, when she should be asleep, she'd be up thinking about where exactly she went wrong to end up in the place that she is now. Would she have done things differently if given a second chance? After everything was all said and done, would she look back years from now and feel happy with the initiative she taken to better herself? Or would she find some other way to mess things up again? Question after question needled her and she didn't have an answer for any of these because there was no telling how things could have or will play out. Yet. Come 4am, she'd be all tangled up in her bed sheets and frustrated that another night that she promised she'd get good sleep passed and she had to find a way, again, to not be crabby and unpleasant to people at school or even home. To say that she was tired of this, both mentally and physically, would be a total understatement.

The transition from Toronto to Lima went rather well, and this city contained potential, that is assuming that Spring brings better times. But now, the temperament chilly and bleak brought out the sadness that she tried to keep far away and all she wanted was somebody to hold her and to actually be proud of the progress she made since mid December on.

How would somebody know that she had made progress when she made sure that it didn't get out that she dabbled in coke? Holly J only assumed that it took place once, and Bianca who she never spoke to much before she dated Owen just felt that she was a dumb ass. Which, she was. 100% correct there. Chloe was too self involved to even think about anybody else unless they had some way of making her feel good. So. Yeah. None of these people could really gauge anything for her and be like, 'Hey Anya. You are doing a bang up job! Go you. Yay!'

There was one person that really knew everything she experienced and her reasons for moving away but kept his distance from her, and without a doubt moved on to spite her, as if to erase her from his memory. Was this something that she had any right to be upset over? It wasn't like he told her to hang out with Chloe and to basically throw away the relationship they did have so she could get high and act like an extreme loser. It was probably better that he did move on, she wasn't anybody worth waiting for or even checking in on.

A stuffed raccoon laid next to her face, it's soft fur brushing against her temple and she pulled it down to her stomach and hugged it tightly as she brought her legs up and assumed a fetal position, wishing that it could return the hug and rid the dire sensation that refused to leave her. Everybody around her had their own lives that kept them preoccupied and all she had was the Internet and her parents that were in the middle of their 2nd honeymoon. Even Imogen, the one friend she made here, wasn't speaking to her and all of her other friends were hours away.

Squeezing the raccoon, she pushed her face down into the plushiness of it's head and breathed loudly out of her nose as she tried to get out of the funk she had managed to creep into. Instead of climbing out, she buried herself deeper with old memories of the good times she had with her ex and how he used to make her so agitated and crazy, yet he managed to challenge her in such ways that they it all balanced out in their heated relationship. They were a rather physical couple, not one that talked about anything deep or philosophical. They'd just fight about stupid shit and every once in a while, after their post argument make out or hook up, depending on the intensity of the fight; they would lay there and go over something that happened to come up during their squabble that they just learned about the other person. She didn't even know if what they had would have been considered a healthy relationship.

If somebody were to ask her if she loved Owen, she wouldn't be able to answer it without feeling like a complete bitch. They shared a special relationship and in a sense, if she did love him, like actually head over heels planning out their wedding and retirement plan type of love, then she never would have left Toronto. Right?

Laughter came from outside and she recognized the neighborhood children playing in the street. More than likely a rousing snowball fight had commenced and she felt the need to look out the window just to reminisce about her childhood through the actions of the kids down below. She rolling pinned her body over to the edge of the bed next to the wall and sat up, pulling the blinds up by the string and pressed her forehead against the ice cube cold window pane. As she suspected, the children had indeed created a pile of snowballs and were in the middle of a game that she didn't quite understand. It didn't matter, she only paid mind to their world because she needed an escape from her own.

Streetlights flickered on one by one and she looked down at the phone next to her leg and pressed the home button. Where did the afternoon go? Hell. Where did the weekend go? It was a good thing that she finished all of her homework on Friday night instead of rushing through it now. Instead of living a life and hanging out with people, she got to spend her evening doing school work. Yeah! This needed to change and soon or she'll probably forget what it is was like to socialize and turn into a complete and total weirdo.

Kids abandoned their game because of parents yelling for them to return home. A stack of snowballs that they didn't get a chance to exhaust beckoned for her to come down and play. Anya, close to eighteen years of age, stared and stared. Should she? Her eyes darted from one side of the street to the next, the sky darkening into a deep purple. Usually around this time this section of the block turned into a ghost town and nobody would pay heed to the teen girl playing alone.

"Well. Why not? It's not like you are doing anything right now other than feeling pathetic."

She went downstairs and pulled her boots and coat on, leaning up and unwrapping her scarf from the top of the coat rack that was by the front door. Anya opened the door and fell back as she waited for the wind gust to die down before stepping over the threshold and into the cold evening.

Her boots crunched into the white snow, her weight dropping her about half an inch down with each step. A car drove down the street and the driver lazily waved at her, which she in turn returned. The snowballs were at the edge of the lawn, next to a hedge that divided the Jones' property from the neighbors. The street felt vacant as most of the neighborhood was indoors, warm and eating dinner, unlike she who just wanted to do something, anything to feel alive.

Anya crouched down, her knees digging into the snow, the chill working it's way through her jeans and she knew that if she stayed in this position for long that it would make her pants all wet and uncomfortable. She picked up a handful of snowballs, cradling them in the crook of her arm, fully aware that her carrying capacity was fairly limited. She stood up, a loose snowball fell from her hold and landed onto her foot with a plop. It broke in half and she shook her boot to get it to break away, which made no sense since her shoe will be covered in snow soon enough.

There wasn't much of a plan and she walked over to the sidewalk with plenty of ammunition, but no target. The wind blew Anya's naturally wavy hair forward and into her pale white face and she kept tossing her head from side to side trying to get her damn hair out of her eyes, but it stayed put. "Screw you wind." She exclaimed as she turned around and headed the opposite direction. "Ha. You think you could win. Not today." Her voice triumphant as she skipped a couple of steps down the recently salted sidewalk.

"Where to? Where to?" She asked as she looked for anything that called out to her. Down the street there stood a vacant house that had a rather large tree in the backyard. Most of the kids get yelled at for loitering around it, but that only was because they made such a racket that it pissed off the older people on who lived next to it. Anya, crept over there, aware of her surroundings and half expecting somebody to holler at her to not trespass. "Eh. If they do they do." Her mood shifting from worry to fearless in seconds as the adrenaline seeped in.

The gate that led to the backyard of the empty house stood open and she let herself in. She didn't know how long this property had been on the market, but the snow in the backyard stood nearly up to her shin and she had to raise her feet up high to walk around, eventually arriving near the large Oak tree that stood in the corner of the fence that indicated where the lot ended. The snowballs rolled out of her arm when she leaned forward. She spread them out into a single line and picked one up, packing it between her ungloved hands.

Her fingers quickly went numb from holding the snowball for too long, feeling how firm it felt in her hands while she eyeballed the tree. Her brow came down in a concentrated stare and she centered her aim at the middle of the tree trunk. She kicked around the snow that threatened to freeze her in place until she had a pretty free range of motion to move about. Anya stood to her side, as if she were a pitcher for a softball team, a game she hadn't played since grade six.

The ball, her fingers' indention into it from how firmly she held it flew from her hand without much thought and it crashed against the tree, way off the spot that she originally targeted. "That sucked, girl. You can do better than that."

She picked the next snowball up and repeated the packing process but this time she focused on her stance and let the ball go in a quick throw, it exploded against the tree with a satisfying smack. "Yes!" She jumped up and clapped, pointing at the tree in a dramatic fashion. "In your face, tree! In. Your. Face!" The sullenness she felt before vanished as she stood in the backyard of a house that didn't belong to her, abusing a tree that did nothing to provoke to get snowballed but she didn't care. This type of release was exactly what she needed.

Anya picked up the next snowball in line and looked the tree over again. Her whole body felt the frigid weather and she wished she wore thicker clothing as she trembled, her teeth chattering. She raised her arm up and rubbed the tip of her nose with her sleeve, warming it up for a nano second, her gaze never leaving the dark brown surface of the tree that now adorned a couple of snow splattered spots.

Suddenly, an unexpected anger filled her core, her blood pressure simmered as she squeezed the snowball in her hand into a tight grip. The tree took on a new form, not one of plant life but of human. Chloe stood before her, her crazy blonde hair in untamed curls, her body thin and twitchy. The girl scooped up fresh snow from the ground and lifted up to Anya. "Look at all of this powder. Have you thought of doing it again? You know how much fun it was when yo did." The snow sifted through her fingers and cascaded down in slow motion. "Now you're nothing but boring. Nobody wants to hang out with you because of how dull you are." What she was telling Anya were other concerns she harbored. What if she really was somebody that nobody wanted to get to know or spend time with because of how uninteresting she is. This horrid figure taunted her with her own insecurities and she seethed from it. "Come back home and we can get fucked up together. You don't have some lame boyfriend in the way and we can do whatever we want, A. Come home. There is always room for you at my place."

She squeezed the snowball so tight that it practically molded the inside of her hand. Anya looked down and grimaced. This was the last person she wanted to ever see and there she stood, tempting her to venture towards the life decision that changed her path and caused her to move away from home to escape it. The ruined snowball, if it could even be called a ball anymore felt like it gained weight during this internal struggle and she chucked it at the imaginary version of Chloe that smiled that stupid coked out grin of hers. Anya needed her gone. She needed her to be as far away from this new life as hers.

The next snowball in line ended up in her hand she she threw it without hesitation. "You're not real, you bitch. Leave me alone. I'm done with you!" She picked up the next one, and then the next, showering the air with snowballs that kept hitting the tree in various spots as she angrily yelled at nothing and more than likely seemed like somebody that had lost her grasp on reality to anybody that happened to be watching her.

When she exhausted her supply of snowballs, breathing hard with puffs of icy steam escaping her open mouth, she felt like she had conquered something big. She really was done with Chloe. With the coke. With all of the bullshit that associated itself with that existence she adopted during the last couple of months in Toronto. Her hands open and closed as she calmed her breathing, the joints hurting from the cold and if she didn't get inside soon then that vicious illness she had at the beginning of January might make a comeback and lord knows how Mrs. Jones would handle her down and out again.

That night, after taking a hot shower and bundling up in her favorite sweater, sipping probably one of the best hot chocolates she ever had in her life, Anya went to bed and slept the whole night through without any reminders of how she failed back at home or how she will fuck things up in her new life in Lima. For once, she felt assured that things have been and will be better for her here. It might just be blind faith, but it was just enough to give her peace of mind and a dreamless night. After all, if you kept an optimistic attitude about things, the way she used to be in the past, then who knows what can happen.


	12. Art Club

Lunch period was upon the students at McKinley and Anya couldn't be happier. This Thursday morning left her drained and in a need for a break or something before her pain in the ass English class. Out of all the classes, that one gave her the most difficult, which said a lot because Math typically gave her headaches.

Things between her and Imogen started to normalize, and she kept true to her promise to pretend that the confrontation between her and Kurt Hummel, Anya finally learned who he was through Mercedes earlier in the week when they were at her locker and the boy gave her housemate a small wave, never occurred. They walked and talked outside in the hallway, planning on what part of the school they were to eat lunch today, when Anya's phone vibrated in her purse. She removed it and clicked on the new message.

12:03pm Mercedes Jones: Hey Ahn. Want to check out an art club with me?

She looked up at Imogen, who rummaging their her locker which after a month here was already filled with all sorts of personal affects. "Do you know anything about an art club at this school?" This seemed like something her friend would be in the know of since flocked towards all things creative.

"I sure do, Miss MacPherson. There is one that meets during lunch every Thursdays. Op! That's today!" Her lips formed a circle before it turned into a smile. "Why do you ask?"

Anya typed out her message slowly, messing up while she spoke at the same time. "Mercedes asked me if I'd like to go check it out."

12:08pm Anya MacPherson: Sure. Whne is it/

The locker door closed and Imogen put her arm around Anya's shoulders, giving her the tightest of hugs. "Awww. Are you a budding artist? Do you think you can paint me something?" Her arm returned and she stopped Anya. "Oooh! Can you paint me a picture of Hedwig? I'd love you five ever if you do!"

Buzz went her phone and she gave Imo a curious glimpse before focusing on the new text. "Who knows. Maybe? I don't know." Anya laughed at Imogen's enthusiasm.

12:10pm Mercedes Jones: 5 minutes in the art room. Meet me there?

12:10pm Anya MacPherson: Okie dokie. I'll see you in a few minutes.

12:11pm Mercedes Jones: Thanks, honey.

"Alright. It looks like I'm gonna check out that club. Do you think they will let me finger paint? I bet my mom will love if I ent her something I've made with my own hands." Her nose scrunched up in a cute way before she giggled. "Do you want to come with?"

Imogen twiddled with her necklace and thought things out. "No. I don't feel like painty today. Maybe next week? Besides. I need to check in with somebody. So long, Anya. Til we meet again." Her friend did a small courtesy and went her merry way down the hallway, swinging her arms around as she appeared to dance to her own music in her head.

Art class was only a hallway corridor away and it took her about a minute to get there, which included a pit stop at the water fountain. Mercedes, dressed in a thick purple sweater, dark blue jeans and matching purple shoes, already saved her a spot in the corner, and she slid past a couple of easel to take her seat. Anya picked up the purple cap that her friend placed on the top of the black stool and placed it on top of the purse she just tossed onto the floor.

"Thanks for asking me to come. I've never done an art class before, but I use to have fun painting little figurines and posters before. So. Who knows. This might be up my alley, eh?"

"Figurines?" Mer asked her as she looked over from her stool.

"Yeah. You know. Tiny people and things. I did it for a history class and I don't know, it was really fun."

Other students scattered around the classroom, taking their own places and waited for the teacher to start the lesson. Do they have lessons in clubs? She didn't really know.

Mer chuckled at her description of figurines and merely shook her head a little. Anya couldn't really pinpoint why, but whenever she heard Mercedes laugh, it made her want to reach over and give the girl a hug. A good possibility could be that it rarely happened unless Sammi was present. That little girl can make make anybody, even if they were having a shit day, smile down at those rosy red cheeks, tiny mouth and expressive eyes.

"What made you want to go to this, Mer? I didn't know that you liked art." She asked.

She gave Anya a small look that really didn't say much to her and gave her a slight shrug. "Anya. Sometimes it is good to try something new. I heard about this and figured it might be good for both of us to do together. I apologize in advance if you don't like it."

"Hey. If you are trying this out for the first time, then how would you know if this is any good or not. So no need to apologize, Mer." She grinned, tucking a long bang behind her ear.

Before Mer could answer, the teacher, who appeared out of the ground, or so it seemed, began to talk to the kids. "Hello everybody. It's wonderful to see so many of you interested in this little club I put together. I promise it won't take much time and if you want to eat in here, it is totally permissible." This teacher wore a loose fitting blouse with flowers etched into the front of it and a long dark green skirt. Her hair, down and straight framed her face and she honest to God looked like she stepped out of a VW Mircobus time machine. It wouldn't come as a complete shock if she happened to be high at that very moment. "This is just a place for you to let out your inner creative animal. Treat the canvas as if it were the only way you can communicate with the world. Paint whenever you want and whatever you want."

Anya and Mercedes exchanged a glance, not sure if this teacher was for real or not. It seemed the rest of the class shared the same feeling as the teacher walked around in a half circle, clapping her hands together. "Come on. Start. Paint. Express."

"I suppose that is our cue." She said, pulling random paints from the small container that sat between the two of them and she started to mix colors on one of those awesome pallets she'd seen on TV. "Shall I?" Her eyebrow went up and she tilted her head ever so slightly so she was half looking at Mer, her index finger hovering over the red, blue and green dabs she had added onto the tan, glossy wood surface of the pallet.

Mercedes, preoccupied with selecting a paintbrush, shifted her brown eyes up, a look of total bemusement communicated to Anya. "You're insane. You do know that right?" She returned to the brushes, her fingers picking up a random brush here and there.

"What? Why?"

"You know why, Ahn. It is like you are a big kid."

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" she genuinely asked. Her finger dipped into the red and rubbed it into the blue, loving the thick, cool, smoothness of the paint against her fingertip.

"No. It's not baby." Mercedes leaned far over, her arm extended out to get the blue paint bottle that was still next to Anya's easel when she looked down to find a rag and stopped short. A hiss, one that she didn't even know escaped her lips and sounded like she had touched a hot burner, caused Mercedes to recoil back, hugging her arm close to her body. Anya's eyes, large and concerned stared at the now covered arm and started to feel things fall into place in her mind.

In the beginning, when Anya first moved into the Jones' home, she noticed that Mercedes always wore sweaters, long sleeve shirts, anything to cover up. Originally, Anya thought it was strange and felt that maybe it had to do with something seasonal, it's winter after all. But, even in the house she would never wear a t-shirt, and after some weeks she got used to it. But, oh God. The mannerisms that her friend displayed whenever she felt nervous, such as the rubbing of her arms and the playing with the edge of her sleeves until the material stretched out made sense.

All of this time, the girl that lived in the room next door to hers with a baby no more than a few months old, had been cutting and nobody knew it.

The week before, her inquisitive self basically pushed Imogen to distance away and Anya knew that even if they lived in the same house, Mer was fully capable of locking up, shutting out and limiting interactions. She had done it so many times before whenever Sheila got on her case about anything pertaining to being a single teen mom. But, shit. This was bigger than anything she had to deal with in her past...other than her own drama, but that was ancient history.

Their rather mellow teacher was on the far end of the room and Anya bite down hard on the inside of her cheek, her teeth moving the thick skin up and down as she considered what to do next. In order to keep their teacher from questioning why she hadn't done anything with her blank sheet of paper, Anya pressed her finger against the surface and ran it around until the paint no longer came off. She brought her finger down, careful not to get paint on her red pants and felt her stomach clench hard. How was she to handle something as delicate as this. Mercedes busy with her own painting, blood red paint on her blank page and Anya couldn't help but see blood there. Blood, glistening from the freshness, thick and dripping as it trickled down the page in a thick goop.

The cut that peeked out from under her friend's sleeve looked angry, deep and recent. Was this a recent thing? No. She answered immediately. If it was recent then she wouldn't wear those long sleeved shirts all the time.

"Um." She started, her eyebrows knitted harshly above the bridge of her nose. "Hmm." Anya turned to face Mercedes, then turned back to face the half assed painting she started. This is stupid, she thought and turned to pay full attention to her friend. "Mer...Are you- are you OK?"

The brush in Mer's hand went down for a moment after Anya inquired about her state of mind and the girl next to her witnessed this, not knowing if the question would be answered or ignored. With a lip bite, Mercedes turned to face the girl who had learned her secret. Her milk chocolate skin paled, eyes unable to maintain eye contact while she played with the sleeve of her shirt, tugging it down to her thumb and releasing it.

"I'm fine, Ahn. There is nothing to worry about." Even with her saying not to be worried, Mer still wouldn't look her in the eye..

"How can you say that everything is fine? I saw..." she looked back to see if it was safe to keep talking. "I saw the..." then Anya mouthed out "cut." as if it were a bad word and that she didn't want the grownups to hear.

Mercedes placed the paintbrush with the brilliantly red bristles next to Anya's paint smeared pallet. Her hands pressed firmly onto the tops of her knees, fingernails digging into her as she tried to prove to the concerned girl that everything was as fine as she said it was. Her eyes went up to Anya's and she attempted a smile. "Boo. Believe me when i say that there is nothing to be worried about."

"Mer. That is bull. We have lived next to each other long enough for me to know when you are putting on that fake happy face. I know that I'm still a stranger and all in your house, but you do know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know, boo. I just don't want to have you stress over me."

Anya looked over her shoulder and spotted the teacher a few students away. She ran her fingers into the blue part of her pallet that hadn't been mixed and she randomly dotted her painting, connecting a few dots near the top for no particular reason. Mercedes mimicked her and added some gray to her red paint brush and swooped some lines here and there just as the teacher made it to their side.

Jubilance and praise ran out of her mouth as she ooohed and aaahed over both of their paintings, rather impressed with what they put down. Anya didn't know what in the world she was so thrilled about, she just put whatever with no thought and she didn't know if Mercedes did anything that spoke to her. Actually, their first session in Art Club wasn't really going that well in regards to how enthralled they were with the concept. All Anya could think about was the cut under that purple sleeve and how Mer didn't want her to be concerned over it. Of course she will be.

"Alright, all of you. Great first club meeting." She emphasized great with by clasping her hands together in front of her chest and bending her knees slightly. "I hope to see each and every one of you next week. Maybe next week we can try some naturescapes. Yes. Lets do that. Take a picture of your favorite outdoor place and bring it to next meeting." She went to the side of the room and talked to a student that waited by her desk.

Anya slipped off her stool and leaned down to pick up Mer's purple hat and her very own purse. The hat, soft and warm, stayed in her hand as her friend cleaned the brush. "Hey. Why don't we get out of here?"

"And go where? What about our classes?"

"They will be here tomorrow, Mer. I just think that it might be best if we can go someplace and talk about what exactly is going on with you. Like...I know we can't do at home because of, well, reasons." Anya said, hoping that Mer picked up that she meant that they couldn't speak there because of Marcus and Sheila.

"I can't let you jeopardize your grades because of me. Also, how will my mama react if she found out I skipped classes? She would never let me forget it." Mer took the hat from Anya's hand and fixed it on top of her hair, smoothing any loose strands as she brought her hands down along the sides of her face.

Puffing her cheeks out in an exasperated blow, Anya knew that there just was no winning with Mer. "How will she find out we skipped?"

"The school will call if we don't show up for our third period class, sweetheart."

"Why do I get the feeling that you just don't want to talk about this?" Anya stepped closer to her friend who tried to hide her hurt and Anya placed a hand onto her shoulder. "Please. How long have you been like this with the whole keeping this to yourself?"

Why couldn't she just let Mercedes handle this in her own why? Why did she insist on having her open up about something that would cause her such distress?

"Anya. Please. I promise that when the time comes I will talk to you." The look that Mer pressed onto her showed that even if the matter was pretty heavy, that there was a form of relief behind this deeply stressed eyes, the eyes that always appeared to be on the verge of tears whenever she was in the house.

She removed her hand from the girl's shoulder and suddenly felt ashamed of her behaviour. "Crap, Mer. I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't force you talk talk about something that you don't want to. But, well. I don't think I can just pretend I didn't see anything. I just. Can't." Her blue eyes rested into Mer's. "And no matter what I'm going through, which is nothing might I add, I'm just the next room over. I know how tough your mom can be and taking that in on your own. Well. It's just not right."

The girl in front of Anya, one that she was convinced was broken before Sammi was brought back into her life, shifted her weight and smiled. This time she knew it was a real smile as it matched her eyes. "Thank you Anya. Very much. That means a lot to me."

"You girls better hurry on out of here or you'll be late to your next class." The hippy art teacher chimed out from her corner desk. "Whatever it is the two of you are discussing can wait until later."

Why was it that every time a serious discussion needed to be had, school got in the way?

"Can you promise me that if you feel the need to...well. You know. You will at least come and talk to me? I know that's asking quite a lot, Mer. But...please try?"

"We better get to class." Mer said, stepping past Anya and towards the door. She left the classroom and Anya stood there next to her easel feeling like crap, yet again. She rolled her head back and stared at the ceiling tiles. Why must she do this to the people she cared for? It must be because she cared too damn much and didn't understand the concept of boundaries.

"Are you coming?" She nearly snapped her neck with the speed of the turn she did, surprised that Mercedes stood in the doorway.

She practically bounded towards her. "I thought you were pissed off at me or something."

Mercedes, the girl that Anya had wanted to get to know since her first day in the Jones' house and that appeared to be in another place that she felt she'd never get to see, gave Anya a smirk. "I don't think I can ever be upset with you, boo. You are stubborn as hell, though."

Both of them chuckled at that as they walked down the hallway together, linking arms and probably feeling closer than they were before the start of the Art Club meeting.


	13. Just Another Thursday Night

Everything went into a routine in Anya's life and she felt that with the adjustment and her time alone in the snow a few nights ago, things were stabilized. Her sleeping regulated, she was working out in her room because it was much too cold to jog and she had started talking to more and more people at the new high school. The only thing that would make her time better is if she could see the blonde boy that she had developed a hopeless crush on. There were moments that she thought she might have imagined him or if he could have been some ghost that nobody could see. That would be absurd though. Honestly. Ghosts can't come across as being that real. Right? It's not like he was like Caspar in that movie with Christina Ricci.

She spent the afternoon in front of her mirror playing with her hair. Lately it has felt rather flat and blah and she had nothing better to do with her Thursday night. Anya had her curling iron out and placed random curls into her dark brown, long hair. There really wasn't much a plan or style she had in mind and part of her did wonder how she would look with a head full of curls; the type that if you pulled down on they bounce back up like a coil.

As she mindlessly went about this she heard the doorbell go off. The Jones family went out to visit a relative and she was home alone. No plans were made with Imogen and she had zero idea who could be visiting at this time. She turned off the curler and set it aside, making sure it didn't bump up against anything that would melt from the heat or catch fire. The last thing she wanted to do was engulf the home in flames. That would be something she wouldn't be able to sweetly talk herself out of and more than likely be booted back to Canada with a giant remodeling bill.

Anya did a quick stretch of her legs, spending the last half hour of the floor made them tingle, and ran down the stairs. She had on a pair of pink sweat pants and white t-shirt; something that she casually threw on when she arrived from school. When she opened the door an immediate blush heated her skin and she felt her jaw drop at who stood on the welcome mat.

"Oh. Wow. Hi Sam. I..." What a way to start a conversation, especially with somebody that she'd wanted to see all of this time and convinced herself that he was a figment of her imagination.

The boy, with his handsome smile and very self confident nature took in her sight and spoke; clearly amused by her reaction. "What's happenin' short stack? I haven't seen you around school and thought to check in to make sure you didn't transfer back."

Anya, clearly at a loss for words, tried to regain her shock. "I'm...fine? Yeah. I'm fine. How did you..know I live here?" She stammered out, cheeks still hot to the touch from her surprise.

"A guy has his ways." He simply said, misheviousness evident on his face.

A breeze swept past him and she crossed her arms, rubbing her hands up and down her chilled skin. "Do you want to come in?" She asked after she remembered her manners.

Anya stepped to the side, her eyes still not believing that Sam, the Sam that she had had limited interaction with before, was actually inside the same house with her. And they were alone. Oh shit. They were home alone. Her palms broke out in a sweat and when she closed the door they slipped off the door knob. Anya placed them to the sides of her hips and she rubbed down against the soft material before taking lead and showing him to the living room.

"Do you want something to drink? Eat?" Her nerves were all over the place and she could hear it in her voice. The girl cleared her throat and looked down at her stripped pink socked feet. Why was she behaving as if this were her first time talking to a guy. It wasn't as if she were unfamiliar with it. Yet. There was something about him that tossed all of that out the window and she wanted to swim in the aura that encompassed this boy.

Sam casually walked towards the kitchen and helped himself to a soda that sat in the fridge. "Don't worry about me. I know my way around this place. Do you want anything?"

This was a change and she stood in the entryway of the kitchen, not even aware that she had followed him in there instead of the other way around. "I'm fine." the brunette's head tilted to the side and a silly smirk danced along her lips. "I take it that you've been here a few times, eh? Or do you make it a habit to go into people's kitchens and make yourself at home?" As she crossed her arms, the can in Sam's hand popped open and he chuckled.

"What can I say? When I go into a house I like to make it my own. It's what I do." He went up to her and her whole body tensed. "Or maybe I have cameras all set up and have this place figured out from watching it. You do know that your room is pretty messy, right?" Such a smile spread on his thick lips and she didn't know what to make of what he was saying.

"Uh..." was all she could mutter out before he loudly laughed at her confusion.

With a shake of his head, he said through a series of laughs. "I'm joking with you, Ahn. You actually think I am capable of something like that? Come on."

The truth of the matter was that she didn't know what he was capable of and even the bizarreness of this conversation had her joining in with the laugh. "Hey. You can totally be like some weirdo that nobody knows anything about. Don't you watch Criminal Minds?"

What in the Hell were they even talking about? Whatever it was, Sam was eyeing her and she couldn't help but feel like he was looking her over; something that she did the first time she noticed him in the hallway. He gave her an amused sigh that accompanied a head shake and walked past her into the living room. Sam plopped down onto the couch and kicked his shoes off within seconds of sitting. "I guess you can go ahead and chill here?"

Alright. This actually was new territory for her. In the past, whenever a guy came over, they would just be in for a quick hello and leave. And on the days she actually was home alone they'd hang out in her room or go outside. Owen usually spent time up in her room, that way whenever somebody came home they wouldn't get busted doing whatever. That guy was pretty handsy when he was in the mood.

This was completely different. One thing, she didn't know Sam that well except for a few conversations. And secondly, he was just sitting around, drinking his soda, flipping on the tv and just happy as Hell in the middle of the house. It was as he if didn't have a care in the world.

She ended up joining him on the couch, sitting at the edge, and kept her eyes on whatever commercial was on the flat screen tv that Marcus absolutely treasured. Part of her wanted to turn and look at him, only to make sure that he actually was here. She didn't need to look at him to know that he was indeed here. The cologne he presumably wore, a scent she didn't recognize, wafted over to her. It actually tempted her to sit closer to him, to see if it was in fact cologne or maybe his hair products, or soap. Whatever it was, the temptation was strong and she ran her fingers through her silky curls completely bringing back the fact she only had half her hair curled at that moment. The nerve wracked girl did an internal face palm and hoped that he didnt think she was a dork.

"You're pretty quiet. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just really into this..program." It actually came up with showing some highlights of a football game and she bit her bottom lip. "I used to cheer back home. Sometimes I miss it." The words spilled out of her, glad that it happened because she didn't want to draw attention to how embarrassed she was about her hair.

"Why not try out here? The dragon lady coach can be intimidating but it wouldn't hurt to go for it." He encouraged her and Anya turned her head to face him.

She actually did consider this when she arrived to the school. A few of the practices she checked out in the gym made what she did in Degrassi seem laughably amateur. "I don't know. Those girls are like professionals. Then here comes me, some nobody Canadian, and I'll just get laughed at. Is it really worth the humiliation?" Anya tucked her leg underneath her knee and she shifted her lean body to face him. The commentary of the football recap was low enough that they could easily speak. She took notice that he wasn't really paying attention to it and for some reason this actually made her giddy.

"You'll never know unless you try. Think of it this way. When it comes to something you really want. Do you wait for it to come your way, or do you go out and do something about it?" His eyebrows went up as he asked this; the serious expression on his face accentuated his features.

For a split second she got lost in his eyes and snapped back to reality, remembering what they were discussing. "You go after it...but what if you know it'll be hard? Or you don't have what it takes to get it?"

Sam leaned forward and placed his drink onto the coffee table and went back to sitting comfortably on the couch. The sweater he wore tonight, a dark green that brought out the emeralds in his kind eyes, covered his upper body nicely and she wondered how he looked underneath it. 'Whoa there, Anya. Focus. There is no need to start undressing the boy. He is right here in front of you!' Did he even pick up that she was doing any of this? Surely he was used to this type of attention and she nervously played with the edge of her shirt while he ran a hand back and forth in his hair, giving it a tosseled look as some random play caught his attention on the screen.

"What gives you the idea that you don't have whatever you need to get what you're after? Don't sell yourself short. If you sit on the sidelines and wait for somebody to call you out onto the field, you'll never get anywhere. You have to get up and show them what you are made of." His eyes slowly went from the tv back to her and she slowly nodded, still immersed with the threading along the edge of her shirt.

She pondered this for a few moments and decided to brave a look back up at him. "What if I don't make it? Or the coach yells at me for wasting her time?" Where was this self doubt coming from? Back home, before all the shit with Chloe, Anya was self assured. She wasn't conceited by any means, but she wasn't exactly like this which was some scared girl who constantly doubted her self worth. It was actually kind of sad when she thought about it. What would Holly J say if she saw her like this? She reverted back to her 10th grade year self and that is something she didn't want for that girl was a pushover.

Sam placed an arm along the side of the couch and it gave her the impression that he was reaching out to her. "Tell you what." The boy started, he raised up a little using his arm as an anchor to help adjust him to face her better. "I will wait for you after you try out. If you get it, we can go and celebrate. If you don't. We can still go do something. Does that help in any way?"

God. Whatever it was that he was doing, was working because the girl practically swooned at this. Was he actually asking her out or was he just being charming? Or a friend? Were they friends after only talking twice? "Yeah. It helps. If I fall or something you have to promise me that you won't laugh. Okay?" Her lower lip pouted out slightly and she tried not to smile into it.

"Deal." He extended his large hand out to her, the one that was along the side of the white couch, and she glanced down. She nonchalantly shrugged and placed her smaller hand into his and a tiny jolt struck her when his hand took hers in. A half serious handshake took place and Sam seemingly teased her by holding on a second or three too long before releasing. Her eyes went from the shaking hands back up to him. His cheeks appeared flushed and the boy did a big stretch in his seat that seemed comically out of the blue. Maybe he needed to stretch or was playing off that he possibly felt something between them just now.

"I think it's time for me to hit that dusty trail. I was in the neighborhood and wanted to bop by and say howdy. Get to know the new girl better." He explained as he suddenly stood up. Sam balanced himself on one foot as he slipped his shoes back on and he glanced down at her. "See you at your locker tomorrow?"

This evening went from her wondering if Sam even existed to the boy actually standing in front of her and asking if they could meet at her locker. What in the world took place? Was this God's sick idea of a joke? She batted that idea away and got to her feet. "Sure. I will probably talk to the coach in the morning about try outs." Anya made the dreaded walk to the front door and Sam joined her as she put her hand on the door knob, not wanting him to leave. "Can you tell me how you found out I lived here?"

"Ahn. Why will I want to tell you that? Isn't it more exciting when it's a mystery?" The enjoyment he received from this tortured her and she wanted to shake him until he told her how. Instead of doing this, the girl shook her head and blew a some of her bangs, the ones that weren't curled, out of her eyes,

"Why cant you tell me? It's not like it'll be a secret forever." Part of his blonde, shaggy hair stuck out to the side and she wanted to run her thin fingers through it, to feel how soft it was and to get close to him. The sensation that fell upon her when they were on the couch returned and she gulped.

Sam stood close enough to her that she actually could reach up and do as she fantasized and such a force wanted to pulled them together as if they were powerful magnets. "You won't." His deep voice, a hint of a Southern accent, said. His self confidence practically lured her in and she she felt as if she were under a spell. The girl, who stood about six inches shorter than he, innocently looked up and there clearly was something brewing between them. Alright. So maybe it wasn't all imagined and that they might have something going on right here. Possibly right now. Sam's hand went went up, giving her the impression that he was about to cup her cheek; she already about to lean into it, when the sound of a car door closing halted them.

Why? Why did this have to happen? Ugh. She tore her eyes away from the deep gaze they were locked in and she sighed. Had she been holding her breath all this time? A wave of vertigo struck her and she dizzily stepped around him to open the door. Mer's family were getting out of their car and Anya looked over her shoulder at him. "Guess you better get going. Unless you want to explain to Mercedes' dad why you came to visit me while I'm alone." She joked.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled at this like it was nothing. "Are you kidding? Mr. Jones and I go way back." Sam appeared to have rebounded easily from the heated moment they shared before and he went out to greet the family. Anya didn't have her jacket nearby and it was uncomfortably cold for her to even attempt to run out after him. She watched from behind the door, using it as a shield from the wind, as Sam shook Marcus' hand. The he turned and gave Sheila a quick hug, kissing her on the cheek. When he saw Mercedes she laughed and she shook her head at him as if they shared some secret. Anya realized that Sam and Mer's family actually got a long pretty well, which explained how at ease he was here.

She closed the door after a couple of minutes of watching them all talk and smiled as she went up the stairs. Also, it'd look outright creepy if they noticed her watching them from the doorway.

"This was a good night." She said once she was in her room and closed the door. Anya attempted to continue with curling her hair and gave up the task when she kept daydreaming about him and his chiseled jaw, sexy laugh and kissable lips. There were a times she nearly burned her cheek with the iron and deemed it too hazardous to attempt anymore.

Even though she didn't need one, the girl decided to take a much, much needed cold shower to attempt to cool down her heated self from thinking about everything that took place during the brief, but very much appreciated, visit she had from one Sam Evans.


	14. What Goes Up

The next morning, as Anya awakened from a rather fantastic sleep, every thing seemed nicer. Under the blankets, her body warm and her arms bringing the bunch of material to her chest into a large hug, Anya happily sighed. Even the birds outside her window chirped and sang sweetly and for that moment she pretended it was all for her. She jumped out of her bed and managed to save herself from falling face first onto the floor because of the tangled mess her sheets were in. Acting that none of this occurred, she picked out her clothes for the day and hummed an upbeat tune as she traipsed into the bathroom. She narrowly missed bumping into Mercedes, who was brushing her teeth, as she dropped her things onto the ceramic counter.

"Girl. It's way too damn early for that humming." a very groggy Mer said, sleep still in her slitted eyes. It appeared that the bright overhead light from above the mirror was too much for her.

Nothing was going to get her down from the little mountain of happiness she currently resided and the girl jubilantly laughed as delivered a warm hug to her housemate from behind. "It's never too early to express yourself through hums." She turned on her bare heels and and spun the faucets to get the shower started. It took some time for the water to heat up in this bathroom.

Mer rinsed her mouth out with water and spit out the rest of the toothpaste. As she dropped her brush back into the holder she gave Anya a look over as her eyes attempted to survey the girl's very obvious mood change. "Did you have sex last night?"

"What?" She stopped and stared at her with a hilarious expression on her ever present smiling face. "No. I'm just happy is all."

"You are acting like you got laid, Anya. Either that or you've lost your damn mind." She pressed against the edge of the counter and yawned while one hand rubbed the sleep out of her eye. Anya shook her head while she removed her sweater, revealing a tank top underneath. When she tossed her messy hair out of her eyes, she spotted Mer still against the counter as if she were waiting for details.

She returned to the roaring shower and slipped her small hand past the lavender plastic shower curtain to test the now warm water. "I haven't had sex in a good while. So you can scratch that off your list." She pulled her wet hand out from the flowing water and started to shoo the still questioning Mer away.

"Does this have anything to do with blondie's visit last night?" The curiosity behind Mer's voice made Anya suspicious but she kept on motioning for her to get out of the bathroom. "I bet I'm right." Once she was out in the hallway, her friend turned around and completely enjoying what this was doing to her friend.

"Bye Mer." Anya said as she closed the door before Mercedes could get out properly speak to her face to face. "Girl. Don't act like it's not obvious!" Her friend's muffled voice carried through the door and Anya rolled her eyes, but even with Mer guessing correctly, it actually added more to her great mood.

When she entered the bustling school she knew that her trip to Coach Sylvester's office needed to be handled immediately. To say that the coach intimidated her would be a huge understatement. One time she was walking past the principal's office and the towering blonde woman in the red track suit was on a rampage. Anya pressed her back against a locker and prayed that she wouldn't come anywhere near her. A computer was thrown onto the floor and a couple of students, who happened to get in her way, were tossed aside like rag dolls as she howled up the stairs.

And now she was on her way to see that very woman and her entire body shook like a leaf while she walked up the same stairs that the coach took that frightful afternoon.

Anya counted her steps to get to the coach's office as a way to keep her nerves calm. When she reached seventy two, she stood in front of the dark open doorway. Her hands trembled as she lifted one to knock on the doorframe. The murmur of the hallway traffic muted the knock and she wasn't sure if the woman heard her or not. She stepped forward and peered inside, her straightened brown hair spilling over her shoulder as she turned her face towards the desk. "Coach Sylvester?" Her small voice asked. The office was empty and she actually felt relieved. What did this mean about try outs though?

'Maybe it's not meant to be?' She internally said to herself and she pulled away from the doorway and headed in the direction of her locker. 'Oh well. I can always try out for something else. I'm sure there are other clubs in this school.' Her voice narrated inside her head as she weaved around some people. And if it wasn't for the busy hallways she would have missed the bulletin board with various flyers for different school clubs. "What do we have..here." She slowly spoke aloud and eyed the numerous colorful sheets.

There were groups for just about everything under the sun and her sparkling sapphire eyes attempted to take in as much as she could. The first thing she spotted was a sign up sheet for Cheerios' tryouts; the red font rather hard to miss. All the lines were filled with various names and when she scanned down to the bottom a lone empty line beckoned her. Her fingers glided up and down her jeans as she considered if this was a sign that she were meant to try out. Should she go for it or pretend she missed out? 'But you told Sam you'd give it a shot. You don't want to lie to him, do you?' She thought about this. 'No...I don't.' Anya kept staring at the thin black line that practically towered over her. 'Then stop talking to yourself and put your name on there already. Go. Do it now!' She buried her hand deep inside her purse until her fingers wrapped around the thin purple pen that she kept in there. She leaned forward and neatly filled out her signature and sighed. 'Happy?' She asked and she rolled her eyes. Why did she feel like she signed her life away?

As she straightened up another flyer caught her eye and she almost squeed like an over excited girl who had just seen Justin Bieber in person. This school actually had a LARPing group. It was under Advanced Dungeons and Dragons but she knew what that meant. Without hesitation she put her name on the flyer, that didn't have many signatures, and did a little dance while doing so. It had been so, so long since she had a chance to LARP and after Dawes left there wasn't anybody else to keep it going at Degrassi.

What an incredible day! The sensation she had this morning never waivered and she practically skipped down the hall to her locker, shrugging off a few strange looks from passerbys. She rounded a corner and spotted the familiar blonde guy waiting for her, like he promised. He wore his red and white letterman and was looking down at a comic book in his hand. "Well, well, well. Look who kept true to his word." her voice happily came out as she appraoched her locker and tinkered with the combination lock.

He lowered the comic and grinned at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "Sam Evans always keeps his word." After he spoke he pushed off from the lockers while she pulled hers open. "Tell me, half pint. Did you get lined up for a try out?" He asked behind her as she removed some books from her backpack and gathered the items she'll need for her first class. All throughout this time Anya was aware that her eyes were burning hot and she was extremely happy about her decision to wear her hair down.

"I went to Coach Sylvester's office first and she wasn't there. But," she put a bit of cute emphasis on that word before carrying on, "I did find a sign up sheet and managed to squeeze in on that. So...fingers crossed." Right when she said this, Anya actually turned around and motioned the crossing of her fingers with a silly smile to accompany it. She didn't dare tell him about her signing up for the other club. She gently closed her locker and started the short walk to her class. She took a deep breathe before deciding to continue on to a different topic."I think I know how you found out where I lived."

Sam joined her side after he rolled up his comic and stuck it inside his back pocket. With casual demeanor he buried his hands deep into his loose fitted jeans and went from staring down at the floor as they walk to shifting his attention to her. "Do tell." It killed her that he acted so innocent with this, especially with the way his teeth flashed as he continued to sheepishly smile.

"It's because of Mercedes. She must have told it to you in passing or something. That's the only thing that makes the most sense to me." She could feel his eyes stare along the side of her face, her milking white complexion darkening to match the blush she applied there earlier, and Anya pretended to be fascinated by something that was said to the left of her.

There wasn't an immediate answer, and it was probably because she had hit the nail on its head, but his reply made her question things once more. "It really bothers you that you don't know the answer to this, doesn't it? There is a chance you are right. There is also the chance that you are wrong. What I do know is that it's for me to know and for you not to find out."

"Sam." she started to say as they neared her classroom. "It's not nice to tease you know. Shouldn't you be nice to me since I'm the new girl here? It's like I'm the guest and you're the host. So as the host you're supposed to be nice." A flirty laugh escaped her lips after she mentioned this. Anya now stood with her back to the classroom and unable to take her gaze off of him.

"I treat my guests the same way I treat everyone else. There is no special treatment for you, Ahn. Not when it comes to me that is." That devilish grin went along his lips and she wanted to smack him on the shoulder for acting this way. "You're loving this, admit it."

"Fine. Whatever. Do or say what you want. See if I care." Anya purposely discarded his last comment and turned to to head into her class, leaving Sam in the hallway without a goodbye. It took so much strength to not look around at him when she took her seat. She was fairly certain that he didn't expect that type of reaction from her. Hell, she didn't expect to do that to him either. She buried her head inside her binder as if she were trying to read some small print for she wanted to conceal the rather large grin that plastered itself onto her face.

Class, uneventful, ended and she picked up her already organized things seconds after the bell announced the end of first period. "I'm so bored with this town!" Came the dramatic tone from Imo as they both stepped outside of their room. "Tell me that you have something fun planned for this weekend. I need to be rescued from my bedroom walls!" She wrapped her arm around Anya's shoulder and rested her head there while they walked.

"I've got nothing. And when do you think I ever do anything fun? This is me you're talking to." This was very true. There was a time that she had a busy schedule planned out with all sorts of exciting things. Now. Her schedule consisted of school assignments and nothing more.

Imogen walked around and stopped her with both hands on top of her shoulders. "Do you even hear yourself speak? You're Anya MacPherson. You are the funnest most awesomest person that ever existed. And that is coming from me. So you better take what I say with the utmost seriousness."

"If you say so. That still doesn't mean that I know of anything that is going on... and we better get going or we'll be late for our next class." She ducked from under Imo's hold and continued on into the current of students that streamed up and down these hallways.

"What if," Imo jogged to catch up with her hurried walk. "we go out tonight? Drive around and see if we can find an adventure of sorts? Doesn't that peak your interest. Say yes." Imogen put her hand onto Anya's elbow as they slowed down in front of their classroom. "Pretty please. You will be doing me, my mother and the city of Lima the biggest favor if you do this." Her hands were clasped together in a begging movement and Anya couldn't look away from the puppy dog eyes that was loosening up her will to say no.

"Okay! We'll go out tonight. I don't know what you expect to find but I'll do this for you. The last thing I want is for you to be found dead in your room from being bored to death. That is one thing I don't want looming over my head because only I will know it could have been prevented."

Her friend squealed and hugged her around the waist. "This is why I love you!" Then the girl's excited voice, that went on five miles a second, went into detail on everything they could do while they are out and Anya just nodded and laughed all the way until they were in their assigned seats and waiting for the teacher to start.

During the remainder of the day, Anya basically snoozed through her classes. It was Friday and nobody really wanted to be here. There was a collective countdown until the final bell went off and everybody rushed out. Normally she took her time leaving her class, but there was some hope that if she got out fast enough she could possibly bump into him. She hadn't seen Sam since right before first period and she wondered if he was upset with her for pulling that little stunt. There goes that self doubt again. 'Quit second guessing everything you do. It's fine. He is more than likely busy with his own things.'

Her mind went back and forth with scenarios, and while at her locker she started to question her own sanity and that maybe it wasn't healthy for her to be so hung up on him. 'Get a grip, woman.' She scolded herself after she packed the necessary items for the weekend homework she was assigned. Anya shouldered her backpack and closed the locker. Maybe a night out with Imo could do her some good. It can help her not get caught up on everything Sam and maybe have some fun for a change.

Most of the students had cleared the halls already and she was one of the last. It wasn't that she took an extra long time at her locker, it's just on Fridays people usually vanished from the school as quickly as they can. While she walked along the hall, some strums from an acoustic guitar echoed out of an open door of a classroom. The notes were playful, and quick and it sounded like a song that she should know but couldn't quite place it. Anya followed the notes and looked up to see that she was standing in front of the choir room. The girl never went to this part of the school before and she peered inside. A black piano stood closest to the door and rows of empty chairs were along the sides of it.

None of those things interested her as she discovered the source of the music. Sam was sitting down in one of the chairs and a rather stunning blonde girl in a Cheerio's outfit was close to him. The two of them were laughing and singing some lines together and the whole scene made her smile falter. Sam was looking down at his fingers as he picked the notes and the unfamiliar girl confidently brushed the hair out of his eyes, giving him such a loving look that had her want to put as much distance between her and them as possible.

How long did she stand in that doorway? It was hard to gauge as she couldn't exactly remove her eyes from what was taking place in front of her. Either Sam was a complete flirt with all the girls he talks to, or he and this Cheerio had something going on. It was difficult to pick up the conversation they were carrying on, that was mixed in with the singing, but it was obvious that she was watching a private moment between them. They continued on, completely unaware of her presence, and Anya stepped to the side of the door and out of sight.

She needed out of this building.

Her heels rapidly clicked down the hallway as she went to the nearest exit, she didn't care where it lead her for she only needed to be outside in the cold; fresh air on her burning face. The moment the doors closed behind her, the teen girl leaned against the cool metal of the door and closed her hot eyes. 'What did you expect? You really think a guy like him would be single? You're not that naive.' Why did this hurt her so much? They had only talked a handful of times. It's not like they were really friends or anything. Her thumbs looped around the straps of her backback and she glided them up and down as a way to calm her nerves. 'This is good. This happened for a reason. You have a history of getting caught up with a guy too fast. Go out tonight and have fun with Imogen. Try to forget your crush on him and it'll make things that much easier.' Her voice drilled out and Anya blew out a lungful of air in a frustrated fashion. "Ugh. This suck." She said as she hit the door with a closed fist before moving away from it.

Sheila's car was parked in front of the school and she didn't even question why she was so late to getting out there for she had a book of Sodoku puzzles to keep entertained by. "How was your day?" She asked her as she climbed into the backseat of the car. Mer was up front writing in a notebook and she turned around to give Anya a questioning look. She shook her head and aimed her attention on to the American flag that lazily waved out in front of the school.

"It was fine. I'm happy the weekend is here." Her voice came out flat as the stupidity of her reaction settled in.

Mercedes kept looking in her direction and Anya pretended not to notice when the car pulled out and headed home.


	15. Girl's Night Out p1

Anya welcomed the distraction of the upcoming night with open arms. She pulled out various outfit choices and tossed accompanying jewelry options on top of them as she fluttered about her room. A few shoes went around the bed and she stood there with one hand on a jutted hip and the other questiongly rubbed underneath her lower lip as she considered which to go with.

"Oh. Makeup! Can't forget that!" She twirled around and jumped over to her dresser with the avalance of various products all over it. "This can be cute. Hmm. This too!" Thin fingers, a silver ring she chose to wear that day glinted in the overhead light, as she picked lipsticks, eyeshadows and blush. Anya carried them over and laid the appropriate colors with the multiple outfits.

Once she was satisfied, Anya stepped back and surveyed it all. Why was she putting so much into this? They were only going to drive around the city and there was slim to no chance of them actually running into anything fun or worthwhile. It didn't matter for this kept her thoughts miles away from the scene she walked into in the Choir Room.

There was a small pace back and forth until she stopped in front of one and nodded her head. "Looks like it's you and me tonight." She spoke to her clothing and accessories. If anybody were to happen across this they'd think she might have a screw loose. Maybe she did. Like it mattered to her.

Anya put everything else back up and smirked about how this reminded her of the days that she and Holly J. would speak on the phone and coordinate outfits for the following morning. Most of the time it was her friend deciding what would be worn, but she didn't mind that too much. It took a lot of the guesswork away from her.

Things have changed since then and Holly J was a five hour drive away from her. It'd be nice if they would Skype more often but she understood how busy it could be as a Vice President in her senior year. At least, she guessed she could. Anya picked up the dark blue dress, a shade that actually complimented her eyes, and hugged her tone athletic body in all the right places. She gave it a once over to make certain there were no surprise holes or stains from the last time she wore this outfit, and everything checked out. During this time, her mind wandered and thought about how Sam would like to see her in this dress.

_Stop that! _She scolded herself._ He has some other girl for him to look at. Can't you get that through your head? You need to get over him. You never had him. He was never even an option for you. You probably imagined that there was. So, let it be. _Her inner voice was a cruel bitch, but was right. Her mind could have possibly created an image she wanted when he was there at the house. He did bound away from her as if nothing took place.

Was she actually losing her mind?

_Fuck it. Go and get dressed and make sure you have fun tonight. Maybe, if you can, flirt with a guy. That will take your mind off things. _Anya assuredly nodded as she laid the dress back out on the bed and went to take her second shower of the day. It wasn't that she needed one, per say, only showers were one way to get her to calm her frazzled nerves. And, by God, were they ever frazzled!

When Anya drove up to Imo's house, she texted her friend and played with her long bangs in the mirror as she waited. The smokey gray eyeshadow, with hint of blue glitter around the black eyeliner she penciled on, made her eyes pop and she approvingly smiled. As much as people didn't like to talk about what parts of their bodies that they liked; Anya happened to love her deep blue eyes. Whenever she was bored she'd lug out her massive collection of makeup and play around with different colors and ways to draw on her eyeliner. Tonight she felt in the need for a little bit of fun and did little cattails at the edges of her eyes . She turned her face side to side to make sure they didn't smudge as she forgot to do this during her rush to get to Imogen's house. All while she did this, she didn't hear her friend approach the car and she hopped a little in her seat as the door opened.

"I owe you so big for tonight! If I could I'd find a way to give you the rainbow and the huge pot of gold that you find at the end of it." Imogen chirped as she settled into her seat and buckled up. Something sweet filled her car after Imogen closed the door and Anya turned to fully take in her friend. The creaks coming from her mini black leather jacket made Anya a little bit envious of it since it was actually a real great jacket; one should could picture herself wearing. "Did you eat some candy before you came out? It smells like…" What was it? She closed her eyes and the blow from the heater in the car hit the side of her face, slightly masking the aroma coming from her friend. "Did you have Junior Mints? I think that's what I'm picking up."

"Close. You know how back at home we have Girl Guide cookies. Wellllllllll. They have those here. Only they are Girl Scouts and their cookies are from Heaven. An angel baked them and delivered the boxes to Earth for us to enjoy. A nurse at the hospital my mom works at brought a box that she kept in her freezer for us to try and I scarfed down a whole sleeve." The girl proudly announced. "The cookie is called Thin Mint and it's chocolate and minty and I will bring some to you on Monday. That I will."

There was such excitement coming from Imogen from the talk of cookies and Anya answered with a laugh. "I shall have to try this and let you know if I find them to be as good as you're making them out to be." She put the car into drive and started forward into the neighborhood. "Is there any place you want us to check out? Or are we roaming around the city?"

"Roam. I don't know of any parties or happenings for the night. It's not like anybody would share that with me."

"Why do you say that? I thought you were getting close to Blaine and all those people in Glee Club?" Anya asked as she reached the light on the main street right outside of the quiet enclosed neighborhood that Imogen lives in.

"Yes and no. You can say I'm persona non grata with them. " She sighed and fidgeted with the zipper at the edge of her jacket. "I confessed to Kurt, Blaine's boyfriend; Er. ex-boyfriend now, that I slept with him. The whole club found out and I feel like I've been iced out. Not as badly as Blaine. I feel that this is my fault." Things quickly turned during their short drive from Imogen's drive way and Anya questioned on whether she should pull over and let her friend talk it out, but then there was a quick clapping sound and she thought for a second she blew a tire. "That's enough of feeling sorry for me. This is why we are spending time together. Anya and Imogen's big night together. Only happy thoughts and good times!" Imogen's hands, that she had clapped before, went and grabbed the middle compartment that separated their seats and housed Marcus' CD collection. "Let's go to the area around the college. Maybe we can find something exciting over there?"

Anya didn't know what to make of the drastic moods that Imogen displayed and she questioned if it was a good idea that they even do anything anymore, but she did want to help cheer her friend up from something she didn't know was even bothering her and the brunette eventually agreed. "We can check it out. I don't think anything will be happening though. It's kind of cold out and I don't want us to stalk around outside people's windows in hopes to overhear conversations or whatever. I'm not really into that whole peeping Tom thing." As she said this, a rather stupid grin spread across her lips, the shade of Angel bringing out the whites of her teeth, and she laughed.

"You are the biggest one of them all, Anya. I can see it now. You creeping up to some person's window. Maybe Sam's? I know that you have a thing for him."

This came as a complete surprise to her and she nearly slammed the breaks and parked the car in the middle of the street. "How do you know about me li-. How you know about him?" She stopped what she was going to say and quieted the waver in her voice that threatened to reveal the truth about her crush on him. On somebody that obviously wasn't into her.

An audible huff came out of her friend and Anya didn't know what exactly she said to cause her to make such a noise. "You act like I don't know what is going on in my best friend's life? I've seen you talking to him in the hallways for starters. He is also in the Glee Club and last week he asked Mercedes about you. I don't know what exactly he asked other than he was bothering her and Mercedes told him to, " Imogen cleared her voice and started to speak in a way that completely reminded her of her housemate. "If you ask me one more time I'm gonna smack you in the back of the head. Why don't you go talk to her if you are so damn curious?"

"Oh my God…" Anya breathed out and didn't know whether to laugh, blush or feel sad. In the end the mixture of the three emotions combined and she placed her hand over her heated forehead, one that she didn't realize was hot until now.

A hand went to her arm and she she shook her head. "I'm fine." It wasn't like she had to be asked if she was; the touch alone indicated concern.

"You don't look it. Did something happen? You guys fight? Don't be sad. We aren't allowing sadness to ruin our night of excitement."

Imo's grasped tightened around her bicep and Anya tried to give her a reassuring smile that didn't fool anybody. "It's just something that's not going to work out is all. I think he is into some other girl. Which is fine. I'm just some new person at the school and we don't know each other all that well. Besides. It's not like I can compete with her. She' beautiful and probably a million times more exciting than I will ever be."

"Pull over. We are going to have a pow wow. Come on. Pull over!" Imo put her hand onto the steering wheel and turned it for her and Anya freaked.

The car steered into the next lane and it was a good thing nobody was there because they would have had an accident. "Whoa! Are you insane!" The hammering of her heart in her chest made her vision go double for a split second. "I told you I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it."

The intrusive hand attempted to go back to the wheel and Anya lightly pushed it away. Her heart still going a mile a minute as she battled to keep from losing her cool.

"Can we move on to another subject. Please?" It surprised even her that this actually hit her so hard, considering that the situation to an outside observer would be practically laughable. There was nothing there to really be upset over and yet, inside her stupid heart, it felt like a complete blow to her.

No words came to agree or disagree with her request and the car ride resumed in silence until Anya found the college campus. There were some signs welcoming them to the grounds of New College of Lima and everything appeared so sleek and clean. "I don't think this college has been here very long." The first words to come out of her mouth being more of a statement than a question. "Will anybody even be here?" That was a rather good question as there was no indication that the school was actually operational or not.

"Why not drive around and see if there are any houses around? It's Friday night and we are near a college. There has to be something happening."

There was such determination in her friend's voice for them to find something tonight and this kept the topic off of her. Which, she decided, that if Imogen were to push the matter she'd turn it around and ask about Blaine. That was something she honestly didn't want to do because that would be rather cold and mean.

The car moved along slowly into a neighborhood that sat to the right of the campus they entered. Large two story homes filled up the street that they were driving down and random ones had their lights on. As Anya predicted, there was zero action taking place. "Why don't we go catch a movie at the mall or something? That'd be than driving around aimles-"

"Look! Over there!" Her friend exclaimed as she pointed, her fingertip pressing against the windshield.

"Huh. What do you know. You predicted correctly." a slow realization in her voice drew out as the car continued down the street.

"Of course I did. I'm a complete psychic. I envisioned that during a meditation state during gym. Go and park and we can see what's going down." She spoke the word 'down' slowly and did a tiny dance to accompany it.

She didn't actually think they'd get to this stage of their adventure and Anya even questioned if they'd come across as loons or annoyances if they were to just walk up to a bunch of random guys hanging out in front of their house. "is this really a great idea? We don't know them."

Imo already unbuckled her seatbelt and chuckled at her friend's worry. "We are in a small town where nothing happens. These are friendly people out here. You have to keep in mind that not everything ends with tragedy, Anya Marie MacPherson."

With a bite of her bottom lip she decided that maybe her friend was right. The guys didn't come across as threatening as they were goofing around and drinking. "I'll follow your lead. What are we even planning to do?"

The passenger side door opened as she put the car into park and turned to face her. Imogen, half way out the door popped her head back in and shrugged. "Talk? It'll be a blast to meet new people. Didn't you come here to do that anyway? I didn't have a choice as my mom's job dragged me. But wasn't that why you did?"

Anya sat still, her eyes staring into Imogen's as she mulled over what the girl asked her. Nobody knew the real reason for her choice to do the transfer program and there was no point to bring up her powdery past, especially tonight. "Sure. That's the reason." Her voice forced and half hearted. "Let's go meet some guys." The door closed and the dome light slowly dimmed out. She turned to face the windshield and she watched her spunky friend walk across. "What are you doing here?" She asked as she looked down at the wheel and closed her eyes. "Go and talk and maybe it will be better than you think?"

Her small hand, the nails she painted a cute pink a couple of nights before, clicked against the handle of the door before wrapping her fingers around it. She pulled and pushed the door open. The chilly air greeted her and Anya pulled her jacket closed over her chest. The cute heels she wore for the night stepped out onto the black street, flecks of something in the cement sparkled up at her as the light from the streetlight illuminated it for her. The smallest of details were getting to her and it wasn't until Imogen walked around and poked her that she realized it was because she was stalling.

"I was thinking…" Imogen said as she swung her arms back and forth a little, her tiny fingers clasped over the edges of her jacket as if to keep the sleeves from allowing cold air up. "We should pretend we are other people tonight. You know. Act. These people have no idea who we are and why not try out a different personality for a night?"

This suggestion did spark something deep inside of her, as she did happen to enjoy role playing. Not the kinky type of stuff that she had accidentally stumbled upon one time when she was researching things for her Princess Carilla character. The girl actually enjoyed to take on personas though the ones she favored were from a whole other era. "I guess? Who do you have in mind?"

"Let's wing it!" She skipped ahead. It wasn't until Imogen moved away from her that she could hear the music coming from the house that they were parked across from. An actual party was taking place and they were basically going to crash it.

Anya closed the door of her car and leaned against it as she attempted to collect her thoughts. _Live a little. You deserve to have fun. It's not like anything bad is going to come from one small night out. _Even as she said this, there was a nagging pull in her mind to maybe reconsider what they were planning on doing. She chalked this up to nerves and for her doing something completely out of character. It took some motivation to move away from the safety of her car and when she did Imogen cheered. Her friend waited on the sidewalk for her, and once she stepped up they linked arms and walked up to the house party filled with strangers and God knows what else.


End file.
